Where All Roads Lead
by LivewithHonour
Summary: The Wanderer knows that there something going on in the wasteland, he just can't work out what it is. The Brotherhood's no longer his ally and he's fast running out of friends. Can the Wanderer save the wasteland or has his luck finally run out? Rated M for safety
1. Chapter 1

Arthur Maxson was running for his life, running as fast as his eleven year old legs could manage. He almost slipped scrabbled over a patch of rubble but he stumbled on flailing his arms to regain his balance. A small part of him wanted to stay and fight; after all he was a Maxson and a squire of the Brotherhood of Steel. The more sensible part of him urged him to keep running, he was an unarmed eleven year old boy and the odds of him killing his three super mutant pursuers were slim to none. He blinked back tears as he realised he was probably going die in these ruins and more than that he wished Sarah was with him, she would have been able to save him.

The day had started so well for Arthur when Elder Lyons had allowed him to accompany himself and the Lyons Pride to the dedication ceremony outside of Project Purity. The ceremony would honour those knights who had died to make Project Purity a reality, either defending it 19 years ago or the more recent assault to retake it from the Enclave. Duties prevented any sizeable number from attending but Elder Lyons, Sarah and the rest of the Pride would be there, which was reason enough to go in of itself. He loved hearing their war stories and if he was lucky he might even see them in action. It would also give him a way to get out of the citadel which was beginning to feel more like a prison as the weeks went on and he still had not been allowed to leave. Elder Lyons had only relented on this for two reasons which he had explained to the young squire. Firstly it would show him the sacrifices that the Brotherhood had made to help the people of the Capital Wasteland. The second he had added with a smile was that he could not imagine that Arthur could be in any danger with the Lyon's Pride protecting him.

So the squire had left the citadel in a suitably solemn mood, careful not to seem to excited at the possibility of seeing the Pride in action, he was still in love with Sarah after he watched her stab that 'Ugly' in the kidneys, he couldn't imagine how he feel if he saw her blast one into ash with a laser rifle. He did however regret, as they marched through the ruins towards the Jefferson memorial, that he had not been given a weapon. However after the 'incident' where he shot Sarah he had not been allowed to handle one outside the weapons range. He still thought they were over reacting after all it was only a flesh wound.

Arthur was also disappointed that the Lone Wanderer would not be attending the service. He was slightly in awe of the man and stayed up as late as possible every night in the mess hall listening to Three Dog's descriptions of the man's latest adventure. Still he didn't mention this admiration to the rest of the Brotherhood. They were all still angry at the Wanderer for his actions after he returned from the Pitt. Arthur had not seen what had happened himself and since no one would tell him he could only imagine what he had done to anger the Brotherhood so but though could imagine plenty of things he could believe that the Wanderer would do any of them. Even Sarah who had seemed very fond of him was angry when his name was mentioned, perhaps more so than the rest of the Brotherhood.

Arthur felt quite small during the service, well smaller than usual as it was hard to feel big when you spent your time surround by hulking knights that towered above you in a suit of power armour. It was a humbling experience to see the concrete obelisk unveiled, the names of the fallen etched into its side. They had to leave quickly as Sarah wanted to be back while there was still plenty of light to spot any trouble.

The light hadn't helped them spot the super mutant ambush though Arthur thought bitterly as he dodged down a side street in a desperate bid to through off his super mutant pursuers. He had been at the river getting a quick drink while Vargas' ankle was been examined after he slipped on what turned out to be Brahmin dung left by one of the water caravans. While Vargas swore angrily and the rest of Pride laughed at the man's misfortune he had moved ahead where the ground sloped gently to the waterside and he was able to quench his thirst.

He had barely had a mouthful of the radiation free water when he heard the gunshots and whirled around to see super mutants streaming out the ruins and cutting him off from the rest of the party. Three super mutant masters wielding sledgehammers spotted him and began to lumber towards him and Arthur Maxson ran for his life.

* * *

"Shit! Take cover, take cover." Sentinel Sarah Lyons soldiering instinct kicked in quickly after the initial shock of seeing the super mutant's pour out of the ruins. The only thing that saved them from being overrun was that they were being attacked in a bottleneck, a collapsed building and the river preventing them from being flanked. She wished Gallows was here, the man could sniff out a Mutie ambush a mile away however her father had sent him north to gather Intel on Vault 87. She raised her laser rifle and fired at the closest super mutant and began barking out orders to the Pride.

"Kodiak protect the Elder, Glade you make sure Maxson stays down, Dusk pull back to that rubble hill and started sniping over our heads"

"I don't see the squire Sentinel" Glade yelled back as his gatling laser began to spit beams of light into the super mutant's ranks.

"Where the hell is he?" Sarah yelled concern adding a shrill note to her voice; she was not going to lose the last of the Maxsons on her watch, especially when that Maxson was an 11 year old boy.

"We got a problem" Kodiak interrupted her thoughts and pointed upriver where Arthur Maxson stood staring wide eyed at the super mutants that poured out of the ruins howling and roaring as they engaged Sarah and the rest of her team. Sarah watched disbelievingly as three Master's broke off and chased the boy into the ruins. She couldn't believe this was happening, this had better be a fucking dream she thought furiously as she watched helplessly as a wall of super mutants cut of her view of Arthur Maxson.

"Cut 'em down, we need to reach the squire" She roared discharging her rifle into the massed ranks with renewed vigour before ducking down behind a mound of rubble to reload. Glancing around her she saw her father, firing his laser pistol into the crowd, his expression one of pain and anger as he began to realise that he had lost the final descendant of Roger Maxson. Kodiak pulled him back beneath the burnt out shell of a car they were hiding behind at the waters edge as volley of bullets whizzed into the space where he had been standing. Vargas was beside them hunched out of the way, unable to stand and fire his mini gun because of his ankle. Kodiak saw this and switched his laser rifle for the mini gun allowing Vargas to enter the battle. Glade was holding the right flank while Dusk had reached a point where she could fire her sniper rifle effectively without fear of hitting her team mates. The crack of her rifle adding to the whining sounds of the energy weapons.

At first it looked like they might break through and begin a rescue attempt but the bodies of the fallen built a barricade behind which the super mutant's could take cover and slowly the sheer weight of fire began drive the Pride back towards the Jefferson memorial where she hoped reinforcements were scrambling to reinforce them.

"Fighting retreat" Sarah yelled as she realised they could not hold, she hated herself for the decision as it effectively meant abandoning Arthur but there was nothing she could do. Glade and Kodiak retreated to dusk's position while the two Lyons and Vargas laid down covering fire. When Glade yelled back that they were ready the three retreated towards them Sarah and her father helping Vargas hobble as fast he could. This cycle continued for over 10 minutes until reinforcements with extra ammunition arrived and began to turn the tide. Too late for poor Arthur Maxson, Sarah thought bitterly as she blinked back tears at the thought of him being hunted down by bloodthirsty mutants. She couldn't show any weakness in front the men and so she did what she always did, she hid her emotions behind a soldier's mask and went to confer with her father.

Her father looked like a shadow of the man he had been this morning. He sat there ignoring the medic who was attempting to treat the gash to his arm. Instead he stared blankly upriver to where he had last seen the young squire. Sarah knew he loved the boy as his own and that he would always feels responsible for his loss, she knew that she would. She tried think of something to ease his pain but no words came to her, Sarah really wanted to give him a hug but part of her felt that would be inappropriate in front of the other knights. She settled for a hand on his shoulder and tried to convey all her love through that simple gesture. Elder Lyons didn't speak but simply reached up and patted her hand. They stayed like that for while staring upriver each lost in private contemplation and regret.

* * *

Deep in the ruins of D.C a lone man shifted through a pile of debris. He was clad in black boots and green ranger battle armor. A red baseball cap adorned his brown hair and he wore sunglasses to protect his eyes from the glare of the sun. On his back he wore a small rucksack. A hunting rifle was slung over the bag; the words 'Ol' Painless' etched in the wooden butt, underneath this in a more ragged manner were the numbers '21:6'. At his hip he wore an old 44 magnum revolver and a combat knife. To the casual observer he looked relaxed and totally at ease however his muscles were tensed and he constantly glanced around looking to identify the slightest sound. In the wasteland it never pays to let ones guard down

Jack, widely known as the Lone Wanderer, heard the cracks of the hunting rifles first. He had been scavenging for scrap metal in the city, just north of the Jefferson Memorial. On his last visit to Underworld Winthrop had informed him that Cereberus had been damaged in a Raider attack and the scrap was needed to fix him up before a fresh raid. Abandoning the scavenging he began to work his way through the rubble and skeletal remains of buildings to identify what was happening. As he got close he began to hear the whine of a gatling laser and the lower zaps of laser rifles. Brotherhood then he thought grimly to himself. It sounded like they'd blundered into an ambush. He stood there atop a mound of rubble contemplating whether he should go and help them, from the volume of rifle shots he knew they were heavily outnumbered.

If this was 6 months ago I'd already be there he reflected sadly but that was before he'd been to the Pitt. He grimaced as he recalled that stinking cesspit of a city. Still he'd managed to improve it slightly by helping Midea and Wernher kill that bastard Ashur. Not however before he'd learned the truth about the Scourge and what really happened that day. The way the Brotherhood had told it they had swept through killing all the bad guys and basically saving the day. Ashur however had painted quite a different story one that involved mass murder and indiscriminate shootings. He hadn't taken him and at his word of course, Jack had thanked him for his time promised his comments would be considered and promptly shot him in the head, which was one of his few good memories of the place if he was honest. After that he'd spent a week asking questions and knocking heads together to see if he could confirm Ashurs's tale. Unfortunately he'd been telling the truth.

In a fit of rage Jack had stormed back to the citadel, roared angrily at Elder Lyons and dumped his honorary Lyon's Pride armour, all in the middle of the bailey in front of a stunned audience of initiates and knights. He had then stormed out again breaking the arm and cracking the ribs of two outraged knights who had attempted to bar his way. Looking back he probably hadn't handled that as well as he could have, usually he was a lot more diplomatic than that but he had felt betrayed and lied to. It probably hadn't helped that he had never felt at home in the citadel, he was always the 'outsider'. That frustration of not being accepted had accentuated his anger and with that he lost the diplomatic outlook his father had tried so hard to instil in him. Getting booted out of Vault 101, again, had really made him desperate to find somewhere he felt he belonged, something he hadn't felt since his father had left vault 101 and he was beginning to feel he'd never feel again. So all in all he'd finally gotten to the end of his tether, snapped completely and completely fucked up his friendship with the Brotherhood, not bad for a days work.

Later he'd realised it was probably for the best if he was alone, he was after all the Lone Wanderer and the myth was ruined slightly if he was wandering round with a bunch of Brotherhood knights. Being alone allowed him to be more impartial, allowed him to mediate more disputes and try to keep some sort of peace in the wasteland. Jack had also figured out he may end up fighting the Brotherhood, he'd already had a couple of clashes with the Outcasts when they'd tried to take technology from the 'local wildlife' otherwise known as wastelanders. And as Lyons had admitted when they'd first met the Outcast was probably more like the West Coast Brotherhood than the DC Brotherhood were. It was further complicated by the fact that he knew many knights were sympathetic to the Outcasts; they had stayed only out of loyalty to Lyon's. So he'd distanced himself to avoid any attachments realising he had to be alone if he wanted to protect the wasteland. He figured if he had no friends then he would never have to shoot one, or watch them die, he lost enough loved ones over the years, his dad, Jonas, Dogmeat and Amata. Well technically she wasn't dead but she might as well be, he thought to himself scowling. That one had hurt most of all he had wandered back in to save the day and thought he could finally return home. That certainly hadn't happened he been kicked to the figurative sidewalk as soon as they were sure they didn't needed him any more without so much as a thanks for stopping us from killing each other.

Jack smirked slightly let those snooty Brotherhood bastards fight it out themselves and he turned to walk in the opposite direction when an image of his father lying dead in the control room of Project Purity appeared. Jack swore softly and did a 180 degree turn, he'd just make sure it wasn't a water caravan, didn't want his parent's life's work to be ruined by a bunch of incredible hulk wannabes (he had found a comic book store in DC and that particular one's resemblance had amused him). A hint of a smile appeared as a thought entered his head, talk about parenting from the grave, his dad was long buried but he was still able to make him do the right thing.

Jack had climbed up the remains of an old office block in order to get a better view of the battle that was raging on by the river side. It was as he had suspected a fight between the Brotherhood and a bunch of super mutants. He was about to leave when he spotted a child running into the ruins about two blocks away pursued by three super mutant masters. He swore again and hurtled down what remained of the staircase. Looking at his mental map of DC he figured out the route that the child would take and ran to intercept as he got closer he was relieved to hear the heavy footsteps of the super mutants, it meant that he was on the right track. He sprinted down an alley, easing out his combat knife as he ran. The alley opened up onto what had been a high street. To his left a building had collapsed blocking the road, turning to his left his saw the child racing down the road. The kid had not seen him yet as he was glancing backwards at the super mutants that were quickly gaining ground now that they were out of the narrow side streets which had encumbered them before.

"Oi kid over here" Jack shouted at the kid head darted round and a look of relief flooded onto his face. Jack's eyes widened in surprise as he saw that it was that Maxson kid from the Brotherhood, why the hell was he wandering around DC it was dangerous for knights let alone 11 year old boys. Dismissing the thought he shouldered off his pack and threw his knife point first into the dirt by his feet. He kneeled and brought up his hunting rifle and aimed at the rightmost super mutant, as he exhaled he squeezed the trigger. With a sharp crack the rifle spat out a bullet which struck its intended target in the eye, the now dead super mutant crashed into the other two making them stumble and buying Squire Maxson enough time to race past Jack where he collapsed exhausted. The other two dived into the side streets before Jack could get off another shot. Standing up Jack stepped back a couple of paces to stand by the squire. Hearing his wheezy gasps for air he knelt down watching the side streets. He fumbled around in the bag before he found a bottle of aqua pura. He tossed it the kid and straightened up again. Hearing a crunch on his right he whipped around and fired catching the super mutant in the chest and knocking it back a couple of paces. The second bullet struck between its eyes, putting it down for good. The other mutant picked that moment to charge as it lumbered towards him it hurled its sledgehammer at Jack. Jack dodged out the way but the sledgehammer stuck his weapon knocking it out of his grasp. He rolled backwards towards his knife which he then hurled towards the super mutant. It slashed into its kneecap causing the mutant drag its leg grotesquely behind. The mutant roared angrily but Jack causally drew his revolver and sent to bullets smashing into the super mutant's skull causing it to crash to the ground. Turning round he saw that Maxson was looking at him with an expression of awe on his face. Jack couldn't help but grin back at the kid.

"Sup...Arthur?"

"It's you. The Lone Wanderer. We met...once...n the citadel. Do you remember me?" Arthur Maxson gabbled excitedly.

"Course I do. You hooked me up with Vargas' Guns and Bullets" Jack winked conspiratorially at the young boy as he retrieved his knife and replaced his bag upon his back. Finally he grabbed his rifle and slung that over his shoulder by its strap. Noting the boy's exhausted state Jack also picked him up and began to stroll down the high street. He didn't have much good to say about the Brotherhood any more but one thing he would say was that they made great Mutie magnets, DC was virtually deserted, he had a 'Safehouse' in abandoned garage about a mile off and he felt the kid could use some rest before he dropped him at the citadel.


	2. Chapter 2

**Just a short chapter today focusing continuing Jack and Arthur's story, Sarah and the rest of the Brotherhood will return in the next chapter.**

Jack gently laid out the sleeping squire on one of the old beds that he had dragged into the garage. He discreetly checked for injuries and nodded happily to himself when he could not find any. Turning away from the child he took in the dingy grey room that was his Safehouse. It wasn't he admitted to himself the best looking place he owned. There were at least 10 metal shelves lining the walls covered in all manner of spare parts and junk which he used to maintain or create weapons.

Shaking himself to try and dispel any tiredness Jack moved to the workbench and placed his weaponry on the table. For the next hour he meticulously cleaned his weapons replacing any worn out parts with newer ones. When that was done he walked outside scanning the surrounding buildings for any sign of movement. Jack saw nothing but still scanned constantly as he set down a couple mines outside the door to the garage. He gave them a light covering of earth to try and camouflage them before retreating backing into the relative safety of the garage.

Now, Jack thought happily, he could relax, the frag mines going off would wake him up if there was any danger. He lay down on a second bed and looked over to make sure that the young squire was asleep. Confirming that he was he pulled out a holodisk with the words 'Better Days' written over it, sighing sadly he played the tape and, listening to the words of the mother he never knew, fell into a troubled sleep.

The pip boy's alarm jolted him awake and Jack jerked up quickly knife in hand, he relaxed as remembered where he was and that he was safe, well as safe you can be in the middle of a super mutant infested city. He put the knife back on the floor and clambered off of the mattress, stretching as he did so to loosen his muscles for the coming day. Glancing round he saw that Arthur was awake and staring at him.

"Alright Arty?"

"Yes sir"

"Call me Jack, everybody does...well not everybody...in fact no one does, they just call me the lone wanderer...but you'll call Jack won't you buddy?"

"Yes s..Jack" Arty said the last word with a shy smile and Jack gave him a grin back, it was nice to actually be called his name for once, it made feel more like a person and less of a symbol slash weapon.

"So breakfast? I have a wide range of delicious meals none of which are under a hundred years old."

"Do you...do you have sugar bombs?" Arty seemed to growing more confident and the smile on face was beginning to widen.

"I certainly do. Any Brahmin milk with that? I'm afraid that's only a couple of days old though"

"That's...uh...fine"

"Suit yourself" Jack gave him a wink and grabbed a bowl from one of the shelves and handed it to Arthur along with a spoon, a box of sugar bombs and a plastic bottle of brahmin milk. "You probably have the right idea actually Arty" Jack said grabbing a bowl himself.

They sat in a companionable silence together as they ate their breakfast. Jack was pleased to see that Arthur seemed to like his new nickname of Arty. It was probably a lot better than the more pompous ways that the Brotherhood addressed him. When he'd visited it was always 'Squire Maxson' or 'Arthur Maxson, last of the Maxsons'. That last one especially was a bit of a mouthful. When he'd first met him the kid had seemed a bit pompous as well, reminding him of the people he'd met at Tenpenny Tower. It was, Jack decided, good to see the kid had a sense of humour. Poor Arty, the life he had at the Brotherhood didn't seem like a real childhood. Hell, Jack thought, even him, the Lone bloody Wanderer had had a proper childhood even if it was in a vault. With that thought Jack made a decision, it would piss the Brotherhood off but what the hell. How much more angry at him could they get? Jack smiled to himself as a plan began to take shape.

He could probably give Arty a week, any more than that and the Brotherhood would probably find the kid anyway. He could use the time anyway, he had some contacts he wanted to speak to, some people he needed to threaten. Jack knew something was going on in the wasteland, he could feel it, he just needed to figure out what the hell it was.


	3. Chapter 3

Sarah slammed the door to her quarters and flung the beer bottle she was holding at the wall. How the hell did she let an eleven year old boy get captured by the mutants, she was Sentinel Lyons best of the goddamn best and she had been outsmarted by a bunch of fucking uglies. She kicked the door in frustration and her power armoured foot left a dent in the door. Her grief at losing Squire Maxson began to bubble up, overcoming the anger she felt and she sat on her bed, head in her hands trying to stop herself crying. She failed.

It was thoughts of her father that sent her over the edge; he was crushed by the whole situation and blamed himself completely. In his eyes he had given the boy permission to come, he had let Squire Maxson wander off, he was the reason the boy was gone. Sarah remembered when she had last seen him earlier in the evening; he had sat at the end of his bed staring at the wall, an empty bottle of whiskey at his side. Elder Lyons had not said a word since the ambush. His grief made Sarah's worse and she kept replaying the ambush in her mind trying to see what she could have done differently. The frustrating thing was she couldn't think of anything.

Maybe…maybe she wasn't good enough.

With this final thought reverberating round her head Sarah removed her power armour and sank into a troubled sleep haunted by the dead look in her father's eyes. Squire Maxson had been like a son to him and the loss had wounded him deeply.

* * *

Sarah stormed into the briefing room with a steely glint in her eyes and purpose in her step. Brotherhood knights scurried out of her path. She was on a mission and was determined to see it through. Hell have mercy on anyone who got in her way. She was going to get Squire Maxson back, he was alive. She repeated this thought over and over again. She would not give up and she would find him. Last night doubts had crept into her mind but they weren't going to stop her. She had fought all her life to be respected, to be the best and she wasn't going to crumble just because things had gone wrong.

The men and women waiting in the briefing room rose as Sarah entered the room. Rothchild, Cross, Tristan, Artemis and the Pride minus Gallows and Vargas were present at this briefing. Sarah left her fathers place at the head empty taking her usual place to his right.

"I have called this briefing to discuss the rescue of Squire Maxson. We must act quickly so I suggest..."

"Sentinel" Artemis interrupted "Isn't it more likely that this is going to be a retrieval mission. The odds of the boy escaping are negligible". Sarah stared coldly at the man, she had never liked him, he was always blunt and apt to carry grudges for the most petty of acts. He'd always been resentful that he'd never been invited to the Pride but he just so damn difficult to work with.

"The boy is a member of the Brotherhood of Steel, he has been trained and he is bloody Maxson. He is alive, we will find him and if anyone doubts that they should walk out that damn door and go join the fucking Outcasts" The room stared at Artemis knowing that he often considered joining his friends who had left during the schism to join the Outcasts and it was widely known he had doubts about remaining with the Brotherhood.

"I follow your lead...Sentinel" Artemis spat out the word as if it was an insult. Glade rose fists clenched, ready to give Artemis a lesson in respect.

"Gentleman" Rothchild stood up quickly attempted to defuse the situation "We have all suffered a loss with the...ah disappearance of Squire Maxson but we remain string and united. Lets us focus on rescuing the boy and remain civil not throw insults and challenges at each other." He gave a pointed glance at Sarah who felt her cheeks redden slightly.

You are a sentinel of the Brotherhood of Steel, act like one. She told herself furiously. She was acting like a child. Composing herself she addressed the room once more.

"We will divide the city into 6 grids and send search parties to each under the command of myself, Tristan, Artemis and the members of the Pride. We cannot lose the last of the Maxsons, we must find him and bring him home" She slammed her fist onto the table to emphasise her last point and glared at the room, daring anyone to challenge her. When no one did she nodded and barked out an order that the parties would leave immediately. She was last to leave the room, she would redeem herself and lift her father from the gloom in which he sat. Sarah Lyons was on a mission and she always completed her missions.

* * *

"Are we going back to the citadel?"

"What?" Jack took his attention away from his Pip boy to see Arthur staring at him. "Um no I'm taking you to Rivet City for a while, I've got some stuff to do and I need to leave you someplace safe."

"The Citadels safe" The boy said suspiciously

"Okay look" Jack sighed he'd planned to tell Arty this later when they were actually there but it couldn't be helped. "I'm taking you to Rivet City so you can have the chance to be a kid for a while"

"I'm not a 'kid" Arthur said disgustedly "I am the last of the Maxsons and a Squire of the brotherhood."

"You are also a kid. That or you are very well disguised dwarf" Jack smiled as he saw Arthur fighting to conceal a grin from breaking out onto his face. "It's just a week Arty, relax have a bit of fun, act your age for once. When I was your age I was running round a vault stealing cake and shooting radroaches with a BB gun." Jack unknowingly touched the peak of cap as he remembered his tenth birthday where he'd got his baseball cap and spent and afternoon shooting 'roaches with his dad and Jonas, one of his happier memories of his childhood.

"Just a week?" Arthur's question snapped him out his memory and Jack smiled to himself, he had him.

"Just a week, I promise. I can also promise it'll be the week of your life"

"I dunno the time Sarah stabbed a super mutant was pretty awesome"

"Yeah? Pretty hard to top I'll give you that, but I'm sure it'll make your top three" Jack winked and Arthur and they began to walk towards Rivet City once more. "I've got a friend you'll be staying with, I've 'Lone Wanderer' stuff to deal with at the moment. Still he's a good kid and I'm sure the two of you will be able to trade war stories together"

"Really? Awesome"

* * *

Jack gave a cheeky wave to guard who stood outside the entrance to the market place as he steered Arthur over the extended bridge. Arthur was busy staring in wonder at the floating ship and his mouth was hanging open like a goldfish. Jack opened the door to the stairwell and proceeded to the Weatherly Hotel with Arthur in tow.

As Jack walked into the reception he saw Vera working at the desk, staring at the computer screen. Leaning nonchalantly against the countered he rang the bell and said

"Guess who?" Vera looked up, a pleased expression on her face

"Hello Wanderer, how are you? Here to stay a while? Bryan will be so pleased he's always listening to that Three Dog and then going off to play 'Lone Wanderer' with that poor James Hargrave."

"Jack!" Jack felt a small body smash into his leg and looked down to see Bryan Wilks beaming up at him. Extricating himself from the hug Jack got down on one knee so he talk to Bryan more directly.

"Hey buddy its good to see you. Listen I can't stay long but could you do me a favour?"

"Sure _anything _for you" Bryan said excitedly

"This is by buddy Arty. I need someone I can trust to look after him and show him a good time. Think you're up to it"

"Yes Sir!" Bryan attempted a salute with this emphatic statement and Jack smiled.

"That's great; See you in a week Arty. Have fun." Jack smiled as he left the hotel and began to walk towards the marketplace. The two boys had already been chatting excitedly before he was half way out of the room, he had been right this would be good for Arty.

As Jack entered the bustling Rivet City Market his thoughts turned to more serious matters, something was going on and he had a couple of contacts in Rivet City that he needed to speak to before he left. He saw Harkness sitting at the bar at Gary's Galley, moving swiftly through the crowd Jack pulled up a stool and sat next to the disguised android.

"How's it going Harkness?"

"What do you want?" Harkness asked grumpily taking a long swig from the bottle of beer he was holding.

"Whoa what's with the attitude, I did save you from enslavement, now I'm calling in the favour?"

"It's about time, you've been holding that over me for ages"

"Well...we won't be even yet...I just want information" Jack moved his hands up and mimed weighing two objects in each hand. "So as you can see a life is worth more than enslavement so you'll still kinda owe me." Harkness snorted in response and took another swig of his beer.

"Anyway I wanted to know whether you'd seen an increase in super mutant activity recently?" Harkness looked thoughtful for a moment and stared at his beer bottle for a minute or two before he replied

"Yeah now you mention their do seem to be a few more than usual at least they've stepped up their attacks, we are just lucky we live on this old tub or we'd be in trouble"

"Thanks. Gary! A beer for Harkness. On me" Jack dropped a handful of caps on the bar and left heading for the Muddy Rudder. He had suspected as much but it wasn't good to have his suspicions confirmed; now he just had to find out why there were more super mutants in the first place. Hopefully Belle would have heard some rumours working the bar.

Jack did a quick headcount as he entered the Muddy Rudder looking out for anyone who had the potential to be troublesome, there were three Talon Company mercenaries in a corner but they were completely drunk and could barely stand. He sidestepped Trinnie, who was moving towards him, probably looking for a handout and caught Belle by the arm as she returned from delivering drinks to a group of traders.

"I'll be quick Belle" Jack said quickly seeing the angry look on her face, he really didn't want to have scene and draw everyone's attention to him. "Just tell me if there been more of those Talon guys in here than usual"

"Yeah there've been loads" Belle replied pulling her arm free as she did so "Caught something about being paid _not _to kill muties, they are spending caps like there's no tomorrow." Belle looked quite pleased at the extra influx of caps. Jack frowned as he got this new piece of information. Belle interrupted his thoughts with a cough and held out her hand; Jack gave a faint smile and dropped some caps into her hand. Belle did a quick count and nodded satisfied.

"Been a pleasure Jack, drop by some time, have a drink." Jack watched as she pocketed the caps and sauntered back towards the bar.

"Oh and Belle" He called softly after her "We never spoke about them" he gave a slight nod in the direction of the three Talon mercenaries. The last thing he needed was them finding out he'd been asking questions. When she nodded her confirmation, he turned and left, a frown etched on his face, he really needed to go have a chat with Reilly.


	4. Chapter 4

**Thanks for the reviews guys, its much appreciated.**

Jack crouched and took cover behind the crumbling walls of an old house. He had just left the metro and entered Seward Square when he heard the unmistakable roar of a super mutant. Jack cautiously looked around the wall trying to locate the super mutant but it was no where to be seen. Ah well, Jack thought, I'll just sneak round, I don't have time to play hunt the monster. He readied his rifle so that he would have it to hand and stepped out into the street. Hugging the shadows and he headed for Reilly's compound, straining his senses to try and foresee any attempts at an ambush. He was just about to head into the compound when he heard a scream followed by the grotesque laughter of a super mutant. Sighing Jack did an abrupt 180 degree turn and began to jog towards the source of the laughter.

He saw the super mutant standing outside an old school bus that been abandoned in the middle of the road. He hear could hear the faint sounds of a person struggling and cursing from inside the bus. Jack was about 200 yards away crouched behind an old bus top. He brought his rifle up and aimed at the super mutant's head. Just as he was about to pull the trigger he noticed movement out of the corner of his eye. Further down the road he could see a large group of super mutants milling around the parking lot of an old diner.

"Great. Guess it's the hard way then" Jack muttered to himself as he hung the rife over his back and proceeded to pull out his combat knife and began to edge his way closer and closer to the super mutant, who was facing the other way staring down an abandoned alley. Jack licked his lips nervously as he positioned himself right behind the mutant, thank god he sharpened the knife the night before or he'd be in real trouble. Jack took a breath to calm himself and leapt towards the super mutant burying his knife in the mutants neck, he twisted and jerked the knife trying to maximise the damage before he was shaken off. The super mutant attempted to roar out but all it emitted was a pathetic gurgle. However it continued to writhe and thrash about as it sank to its knees and Jack clung rounds its neck holding on for dear life. Finally after what seemed like hours the monster lay unmoving on the ground. Jack pulled out his knife and hurriedly slits its throat, you can never to careful he told himself as he stood and wiped his knife clean with an old rag he kept in his pack.

Stepping inside the bus he saw a woman struggling in vain as she tried to escape from the ropes that bound her. Grinning Jack stepped up to her, cut her bonds and offered her a hand to get up.

"Why the hell you'd cut the ropes" The woman yelled angrily as she stood up batting Jack's hand away

"I...I'm sorry?" Jack stammered, shocked at her reaction.

"I didn't need your help, I am a knight of the Brotherhood of Steel not some damsel in distress. So piss off '_wastelander_". Jack turned and left shaking his head, once upon a time, he thought, people were actually happy to be saved. Still bewildered he walked into Reilly's Rangers compound and, after entering the password, entered into their HQ.

As Jack entered the bedroom/ kitchen area he saw that Butcher, Donovan and Brick were playing what looked to be a very competitive game of poker, a large stack of caps had been shoved into the middle of the table. The three rangers were staring intently at each other over their cards.

"Hey guys how are you? Also do you know where Reilly is?"

"Terminal" The answer was barked out by all three, none of them looking up from what appeared to be a staring contest.

"Thanks...I guess...so see you around?" When it was clear that he wasn't going to get an answer Jack turned and left looking for Reilly, hopefully she'd be a bit more sociable.

As Jack entered the room Reilly turned from the computer screen and a big smile broke out on her face as she saw him.

"Hey Jack"

"Reilly"

"I see you've still got the armour"

"It's a second skin"

"So its seems. Why are you here? Got more mapping data for me?"

"No just some questions"

"Shoot. Got all the time in the world. Seriously we had our mutie killing contract revoked, now we're being paid not to kill 'em. I'll be honest it feels weird, Bricks especially bummed out..."

"Hang you've got a contract not to kill muties...shit!" Jack said the last word a little louder than he meant to and Reilly raised an eyebrow in a silent question.

"Sorry Reilly, its just the Talons have the same weird contract...I'd assumed they were up to something but if you have the same one as theirs someone else is pulling the strings"

"Well if they're paying the Talon Company the same rates as us they must be loaded, 'cos we're swimming in caps, I mean did you see the stakes in the poker game?" Jack shook his head disbelievingly at this information

"I was just going to ask for your help on a little raid to Fort Bannister to knock some heads together. That plans just been knocked out the window…and then been ripped apart by a Deathclaw. Thanks for the help Reilly, I've gotta go ask some more questions." Jack waved goodbye and climbed the steps to reach the surface once more one question racing round his head. Who the hell benefits from an increase in super mutants?"

* * *

"No way!"

"Uh uh" Arthur nodded his head solemnly

"You watched him kill three super mutants" Bryan asked this with a mixture disbelief and jealousy

"Yeah they were chasing me and he shot them and everything"

"You're so lucky"

"No you are! I've never seen fire breathing ants, that sounds awesome"

"It was pretty cool, especially when the Wanderer made their heads explode!"

"What you guys doing?" James Hargrave asked as he entered the 'secret den' that the three boys had built in the market. Arthur looked up and saw that James' eyes were red and puffy. His Mom had probably beaten him again. Arthur felt sorry for his new friend and tried to think of a way to cheer him up.

"We were gonna play Lone Wanderer on the flight deck." Arthur paused for a moment and then added "You can be the Wanderer if you want"

"But..." Bryan trailed off as he noticed Arthur's meaningful gaze

"But?" James asked

"But we'll be super mutants not raiders" Bryan finished, pleased with his excuse

"Awesome" James looked happier now "Let's go, last one there's a rotten mirelurk egg"

Arthur kept behind Bryan and James, he was slightly quicker but they knew the ship a lot better than he did and Arthur didn't want to get lost. He felt a smile creep on to his face the three of them rushed through the market dodging round traders and their customers. He missed the citadel but he had to admit it was nice to be 'Arty' for once and not 'Squire Maxson', it was nice to be able to play with kids his own age and Gary's Galley's food was a lot nicer than the stuff the commissary served at the citadel. It had been four days since he had arrived and the Wanderer had been right, best week ever.

The three of them played on the flight deck for several hours until their stomachs started to rumble, at which point they headed inside to get some food. The Lone Wanderer had left him some caps and he used these to buy himself and James some food. James' mom spent all her money on drink Arthur thought disgustedly, she clearly had no honour. Maybe Elder Lyons would let James come to the citadel, then they'd both be happy and he'd have a friend to play with.

Arthur and Bryan were heading back to the Weatherly Hotel when Dan appeared. Arthur swallowed nervously Dan was a bully and he was 14, 3 years older than Arthur and even then Dan was big for his age.

"Oi turds! Give me your caps" Both boys froze unsure what to do they had spent all the caps that Vera had given them; she was looking after the caps the Wanderer had given to cover any food or other such expenses.

"We don't have any" said Arthur in a small voice. He didn't know what was happening, he'd always thought he'd be brave in a situation like this but his hands were shaking and his stomach was in knots

"Give. Me. Your. Fucking. Caps." Dan said stepping forward menacingly. By unspoken consent both boys turned and fled back to the market. As he ran Arthur moved his hand to wipe away the tears that gathered there, he was a coward. He had let down the Maxson name, he was not worthy.

* * *

Sarah Lyons growled in frustration. It had been four fucking days and they had found no trace of Squire Maxson. Of course it hadn't helped that there seemed to be an unusually high level of super mutants hindering the search. Like a good soldier she compartmentalized the information, ready for examination once she'd found Squire Maxson and brought him home safe. Emotions welled up as she remembered the fear on his face as he ran from the super mutants, oh god what if he really was…NO! Stay focused Sarah! Pushing her emotions back down she switched back to soldier mode, scanning the ruins for any activity. She needed to keep her emotions in check she told herself furiously; she needed to keep calm for the men.

It was unfair she thought bitterly as they search party headed deeper into the ruins, guns primed in anticipation of yet another super mutant attack, she was just as good as the best male soldier in the whole goddamn Brotherhood and easily the best in the citadel, but because she was a woman she had to work twice as hard to earn half as much respect. At least she thought smirking to herself she didn't get hit on anymore, after she'd broken a couple of bones of some macho jerks the rest had got the message. Sarah Lyons wasn't someone to be messed with she was a soldier first and being a woman came a distant second.

She watched as several Brotherhood scouts examined the ground and alleyways for any sign of the Squire or his super mutant pursuers. Not for the first time that week she wished that Gallows was back from Vault 87. He may not be the friendliest member of the Pride but he was one of the best trackers in the whole wasteland, hell Jack said he was better than him. Sarah stopped and anger clouded her face as she thought about Jack. Bastard, she almost yelled it out but managed to refrain herself. She tried to put him out of her mind; to her he was nothing but a traitorous bastard. She marched sullenly on trying to push him out of her head, trying not to remember anything. Especially not the kiss, not the fucking kiss, he'd surprised just before he ran in to activate the purifier, she could remember his cheeky smile. Sarah growled under her breath, unaware of the looks she was getting from the rest of her party. She'd like to smash that smile off his face if she ever saw him again. Thank god he was out of her life for good, totally out of it, gone. Forever.

"Uh Sentinel?" A scout interrupted her inner rant nervously

"What?" Sarah asked still angry about Ja...no The Wanderer, she wasn't even going to use his name.

"We found three super mutants, just three, two had sledgehammers one had a rifle all three were masters. Just like the description." Sarah felt her spirits begin rise and lift her out of her dark thoughts

"Any signs of the squire?"

"Well...um...uh"

"What?"

"From what we can tell they were killed by one man using a hunting rifle and a 44 magnum. We retrieved three bullets, two headshots and one body. The last has a knife wound to the knee and two 44s in its head. The casings were in the same area suggesting one shooter. It...uh...it fits the Wanderer's M.O. The weapons are the same and he's one of the few who can survive alone in the middle of DC so..."

"Bastard" Sarah muttered cutting off the scouts report, her brief good mood rapidly disappearing "What is that traitor up to?"


	5. Chapter 5

**This chapter is just on Jack. Sarah and Arthur were starting to get ahead of Jack in their respective timeline but by leaving them out they'll all be at the same place timeline wise. Thanks for reading and I'll try to keep the writing pace up as the story progresses. oh and if i haven't said it already thanks for taking the time to review, its appreciated.**

There were eight of them sitting in the pen, clothed in rags made from old-pre war sacks, even from a distance you could see the angry red rashes that had been developed from the itchy sacking constantly aggravating their skin. Most of them sat in the corners, curled up as small as possible trying to escape the world and convince themselves that it wasn't real. A couple stared out through the chain mesh of the pen, though there wasn't much to see in Evergreen mills, the cliffs of the gorge were like giant walls, the only exit blocked by slavers and raiders who congregated round fires to escape the cold winter chill, drinking and eating. No such luxuries were given to the people in the pen because they were slaves. There would be no rescue because no good men enter Evergreen Mills unless they are in chains.

Which is why Jack, the Lone Wanderer, Saviour of the Wasteland was standing in a slave pen in the middle of Raider Central? Of course the slavers who'd 'captured' him had no idea who he was, that would have put a slight kink in his plans. Moving over the gate Jack flourished a bobby pin and picked the old padlock that held the gate shut. He let out a little chuckle as he realised he had quite literally pulled this escape out of his ass. Slipping out of the gate he relocked it and flashed an apologetic smile to the other slaves.

"Be back in bit lads; don't want any of you wandering off and getting shot. Keep quiet and I'll be back to rescue you in a little while" Jack gave them a little wave and then, picking up a discarded piece of lead piping strolled over to where one of the guards was having a quiet smoke by the edge of the earthy walls.

"Hey wotcha doin' 'ere yew fuckin'" Jack never did find what he was as he swung the lead pipe into the raider's head, the crack that signified the raider's broken neck told him he would be getting answers to that question. I'm sure it was complimentary, he reassured himself as he pulled on the raider's clothes, his lip curling in distaste as the smell of piss, alcohol, smoke and blood emanated from the raiders clothing. I get the blood, smoke and alcohol, he muttered to himself as picked up the raider's assault rifle, but why the hell does it stink of piss. Jack continued to mutter to himself as picked his way towards the main building, he walked confidently as if he belonged there and no one bothered him.

As he entered the caves at the back of the complex the raucous sounds of drunken raiders assailed him there were thirty odd raiders, all various stages of drunkenness scattered around the place. Grabbing a bottle of whiskey from a passed out raider Jack began to thread his way his way up the walkways to the cavern where his contact would be. He stuck to the shadows and took an occasional swig of whiskey, to a causal observer it would like he was taking a massive drink but he allowed only a small measure of liquid to pass through his lips. Jack was used to making sure he didn't stand out in a crowd.

Ducking into a side passage followed the narrow route round a corner until it opened up into large room, wooden shelves were on the walls, lined with junk, and a counter followed the shelves round. In the middle of the room two raiders stood chatting, one was in traditional raider garb with a mohawk; the other was bald and wore a trader's outfit. Walking up to them Jack smashed his bottle of whiskey onto the head of Mohawk, who fell to the ground unconscious. Grabbing the other by the throat Jack slammed him against the wall. Smiling he looked at the struggling raider

"Well well if it isn't my good friend Smiling Jack"

"Who the hell are you" Smiling Jack managed to choke out.

"I'm hurt, don't you recognise me, Us Jacks have gotta stick together you know" The other man's eyes widened and his hands dropped from where they had been struggling to loosen the grip on his throat.

"The Wanderer"

"Glad to see you haven't forgotten me. Now I have some questions and you have some answers so why don't we have a little Q&A." Jack said this with a smile on his face, in friendly tone disguising that fact that he really wanted beat the crap out of the guy he was currently pinning to wall by his throat. He like to at least attempt to be reasonable.

"Let's see some caps" The raider said brazenly betraying the fact he wasn't scared by the threat of violence.

"Oh no Smiles that's our other _arrangement_. You remember the one when I pay you a monthly stipend and you warn be about upcoming raider attacks. Now that's not going particularly well for me Jack, so you better give me some answers or I am going...to...fuck...you...up" Jack emphasized this threat but slowly increasing his grip on the man's throat. The raider's hands began to flap about wildly and Jack's left hand pressed a knife into the raider's stomach. The hand fell back to their sides and the raiders eyes began to widen as he felt the life draining from him but he still stayed silent. Jack growled at this and he lifted the man off the ground by a couple of inches, the raider's small 5ft 6in frame was now being held up his throat by the 200 pound, 6ft Jack.

"I…I'll talk" The raider managed to gasp the words desperately as he realized that Jack was quite prepared to choke the life out of him. He saw the glint in Jack's blue eyes and realized that Jack's friendly manner hid the steely interior of killer.

"Was that so hard?" Jack asked in a friendly tone as he realised his grip and stepped back a couple of paces, leaving the raider slash salesman to fall to floor where he knelt on all fours, dragging air into his screaming lungs. As Jack stood there, he pulled a whetstone from the counter and began to sharpen his knife, watching dispassionately as the raider coughed and spluttered through his bruised throat. It took a couple of minutes for the coughing to subside and for the raider's breathing to return to some semblance of normality.

"So now you're feeling more...cooperative? How about you tell me if the raiders are being paid to do anything unusual as of late?"

"Caravans" Smiley, as Jack liked to call the raider, coughed out the single word. Jack shook his head

"Proper answers Smiley, or I'll have to get unfriendly again and you know how much I hate that. You raiders are always robbing caravans."

"No...orders...not...to...rob. Have...to...protect...from...muties...getting paid...lots of...caps. But not...supposed...to kill...if...we...can...help...it" Jack stood patiently as Smiley coughed and gasped his way through the sentence. By the end of it he was standing slack jawed and thoughts were racing round his mind. What the fucks going on, he thought, this makes no sense. Noticing the raider staring at him he regained his composure and put on a mask of indifference.

"Well that's lovely, thanks a lot Smiley" he patted the raiders cheek "You should really smile more or you'll lose that lovely nick name. I mean I haven't seen you smile once" With that quip Jack turned and left trying to formulate a plan from the utter confusion that reigned in his head.

"Concentrate Jack" He growled under his breath as he left the Evergreen Mills bazaar. First things first, free the slaves and get out of these stinky rags. Then he had to return Arthur to the Citadel and try and figure out what in the hell was going on. His visit to Canterbury Commons had yielded the information that both weapons and armour sales were up, but that was spread across the wasteland and both he and Roe had concluded that it was just people buying up after the recent traumas of the Enclave and the increase in super mutant raids. Smiley's information was seriously making reconsider that opinion.

He shook his head to clear those thoughts. Focus on freeing the slaves first, he told himself, you promised you'd be back for them. As he stepped back outside Jack noted that most of the raiders were completely wasted and were lying unconscious around the compound.

"I guess the crates of alcohol I left at the front were found" He said aloud and he quickly ascended to the walkways to check that were no raiders who'd taken their guard duty seriously. As he suspected there were none. That, Jack reflected, was the good thing about raiders. They just had no discipline what so ever which meant they were never a serious threat. Of course it helped that he killed anyone who looked like they could unite the raiders and instil a little discipline. That was why Ashur had to die, well that and the fact he was a evil slum lord who enslaved an entire people.

Whistling a happy tune Jack made his way down to the slave pens, stopping to retrieve a key from one of the inebriated raiders. The slaves looked at him apprehensively, especially the females, a couple of whom began to whimper. You couldn't blame really, there were tales up and down the wasteland about what horny raiders liked to do to female slaves. Perhaps I should've taken off the raider outfit, Jack mused to himself as the slaves shrank away to the far end the pen.

"Told you I'd be back" He said happily to the assorted slaves "The Lone Wanderer at your service" Jacked winked at them and unlocked the cage and beckoned the slaves who were beginning to relax slightly after hearing his title which as he had hoped had began to reassure them that he was a good guy.

"Now if you'll follow me I have a place where we can get changed, have a bite to eat and then I'll escort you to Big Town. You can catch a ride with the caravans of you need to go further" he smiled reassuringly and began to stroll off. Glancing over his shoulder he saw the slaves following him, although they remained close together and kept throwing suspicious looks his way. Jack shrugged he was sure they'd be a bit more trusting once they were warm, well fed and he looked a bit more like himself again. He allowed himself a smile as he thought of the raiders who would wake with extra sore heads, Jack had added a little something extra to the bottles of beer and whiskey he had left them. Radscorpion venom, not enough to kill, which would've been too kind. But if they drunk enough, which they most certainly had, they would have splitting headaches, nausea and diarrhoea. So content that the raiders would have a pleasant morning Jack stepped into the darkness followed by the seven slaves.


	6. Chapter 6

**Got the writing bug at the moment so am firing out the chapters. I doubt I'll be doing two a day to often but I'll try to make at least one every day, though not if that interferes with the quality of the writing. Hope you're all enjoying the story.**

Jack watched Arthur over the crackling fire with a concerned look on his face. They were on the second storey of an old two storey office building somewhere in downtown DC about a days journey from the citadel. Jack watched as Arthur shifted closer to the fire trying to escape the cold night air. Normally Jack wouldn't have had a fire, to him it was just a beacon to everyone in DC, it just screamed here I am, come and get me. But it was an exceptionally cold winter…or so he had been told. It seemed like he'd been wandering the wasteland for a lifetime he thought grimly but in fact this was only his second winter out here, hell realistically it was only his second winter ever, down in the vault it was pretty much the same climate year round, a comfortable warm temperature, the only time he ever felt an extreme temperature was when the air conditioning had broken and pumped out nothing but hot air for two days until Jonas and Stanley had fixed it. Even then there had been plenty of cool, clean water to keep cool.

He hadn't intended on a fire at first but he'd seen Arthur sitting there, cold and miserable, and felt sorry for the kid so he built a fire, figuring it was the cold making Arty miserable. He'd minimized the risks of course, finding a building where the roof was missing but there will still four walls to hide the light that emanated from the fire. This was a building to remember Jack reflected. There was still a roof but it only covered half the building the rest had collapsed years ago, so there was a place for the smoke to escape and somewhere to get out of any rain that might fall. He had shifted the rubble from the roof as best he could and set up two office chairs and a desk near the fire. The rest of the office equipment formed a barricade by the stairwell where he had set several traps including frag mines and grenade clusters. The windows were boarded so no one could chuck those grenades back at him he noted happily and the blast would be negated by the stairwell if they tried to lob one up the stairs. The stairs themselves were narrow; only two human attackers could come up at a time, only one if they were a mutie or wearing bulky power armour. He sighed as that last thought crossed his mind, which was all too likely to happen now.

The Outcast's were all too happy to shoot him after their latest dealings. First had been the fiasco at the Outcast outpost after he'd got out of that pre-war army simulation. That bastard Sibley had stirred up the rank and file and tried to mutiny forcing Jack to put it down with brutal efficiency. Needless to say most of the other Outcasts viewed him as the bad guy, the situation had just got worse after Lucas Simms had found an old army bunker when he'd been teaching his kid to shoot and emptied out the armoury. The Outcasts seemed to think they deserved the stockpile of laser weaponry, while with all the troubles in the wasteland Simms had, understandably, wanted Megaton to have the weapons stored in the armoury. Jack had come across the stand off on his way back to Rivet City to pick up Arthur. Jack had tried to negotiate but a combination of the refusal of the Outcasts to only take some of the weapons and their disdainful attitude towards the 'local wildlife' had lead to a breakdown of negotiations. Jack hadn't exactly warmed to the Outcast's and their high and mighty attitude so when the time came he had chucked them out their asses. He was pretty sure the only reason they hadn't sent a hit squad was because of the services he'd rendered to Protectors Casdin and McGraw. Still if any Outcasts happened to come across him he'd was sure they'd either kill him or take him in for 'questioning'. If the Protectors tried to intervene then he was confident the rank and file would mutiny, they'd already done it once after all, hell twice if you counted the original defection from the Brotherhood. Jack felt sorry for Casdin in a way, how can you trust your own men when they've shown that they won't obey orders they don't agree with.

Then there was the Brotherhood of Steel, he'd known they'd be angry about Arty but then he hadn't and still didn't plan to be anywhere near them when they found Arty. His plan was watch the last part of Arty's journey through a sniper scope; he'd be safe enough as he wouldn't be leaving his side until they were in regularly patrolled Brotherhood territory. It wasn't that he was scared, Jack tried to hell himself, but even that little voice knew it was bullshit. He was scared. Scared that he'd come face to face with one Sentinel Sarah Lyons.

OH HELL NO

Jack firmly removed the woman from his thoughts, he'd moped around enough after the whole yelling at Elder Lyons incident and he was not revisiting that dark place again. It had taken a whole lot of Moriarty's best whiskey and a more nights than he cared to admit with a more than willing Nova to get over her and he was not going to let her sneak into his thoughts again.

With some difficulty Jack's thoughts turned to the latest in a long list of reasons of why the Brotherhood was pissed with him. In what had turned out to be an eventful trip from Big Town, where he'd dropped a bunch of grateful slaves into Red's lap. Who in retrospect was pleased to have seven extra bodies to fight off slavers and super mutants. The slaves it turned out were not from the capital wasteland but from somewhere out west and so all had chosen to stay in Big Town, after a few quiet words from Jack, to help stop the Big Town residents from experiencing the same fate as themselves.

So Jack, feeling quite pleased with himself, had headed south to Megaton where he'd managed to anger the Outcasts. Feeling, rather foolishly in hindsight, that he couldn't get into any more trouble he had headed to Underworld, not the most direct route but Jack had convinced himself he had scrap metal to turn in. Nothing, he told himself, to do with the possibility of running into she who shall not be named as she led search parties around the area where he'd rescued Arty. So he'd dropped of the scrap metal and was just heading out of the mall when he noticed two ghouls hiding behind a mound of earth from the laser fire of two Brotherhood knights.

This had reminded Jack of another reason why he had a particular dislike for the _illustrious Brotherhood_. Their attitude of shoot 'zombies' on sight was just barbaric and moronic, Jack hadn't been in the best of moods because of his inability to discover who was pulling the strings behind the 'no killing super mutants' rule and the encounter with Outcast had only worsened that mood especially where self righteous jerks in power armor were concerned. So without any attempt at diplomacy he'd stormed up to the nearest one disarmed and smashed him in the head with the guys own laser rifle, which was probably very embarrassing. The other had dropped his gun and come at him with a combat knife, Jack had dropped the rifle and drawn his own knife from his belt. The knight's power armour had given him a strength advantage but Jack had been quicker and more skilled. Regrettably even after Jack had knocked him down at least five times the guy just wouldn't give up. Eventually Jack had just snapped and stabbed him through the weaker armor that connects the body armor to the leg armor. Jack had regretted it as soon as he'd done. The frustration of the Brotherhood, the Outcasts and Sarah bloody Lyons had all just been bubbling under the surface and it had just burst through the pile of sex and alcohol that Jack had buried it in. Overcome with remorse Jack had dropped a few stimpaks as a way of saying sorry I stabbed you in the gut and, seeing more knights running towards them, promptly disappeared. He knew they'd recognised him and when he added the kidnapping, as he was sure they'd see it, of Arty they were sure to be in pretty much the same place as the Outcasts. No actually, he reflected it would probably be worse as the leadership in the Outcast were ironically fonder of him than the leadership of the Brotherhood were. He hadn't intentionally set out to individually piss off the entire Brotherhood leadership but some how he managed it.

So in short it was probably just as well that only one power armored soldier could come up the stairs at a time. Now how the hell had Jack came to this particular train of thought. Oh yeah Arty was still looking miserable. How on earth had he gone from that to 'who have I pissed off this week'. Jack shook himself quickly not wanting to get sidetracked again and he refocused his mind on Arthur and his apparent misery. When Jack had picked him up from Rivet City Vera had reported that Arty, Bryan and James had got on like a house on fire. Either something had happened or he just missed his friends. Shit he hadn't made things worse by showing him the good life and then taking it away had he?

"Arty?" He asked gently. The boy looked up quickly and smiled attempting to hide the downcast expression he had been wearing only seconds before. "Oh no you don't Arty, I know something's up" softening his tone Jack continued "If you tell me I might be able to help. I'm quite good at that you know" Jack said that last sentence with a grin, he and Arty both knew that was a bit of an under statement.

"It's nothing…I'm fine"

"Arty" Jack growled. He was determined to know if this was his fault. Jack had made too many mistakes, ruined too many lives and he was not going to add Arty's name to that particular list

"Do you…are you ever scared?" Arty stared intently at Jack waiting for the answer to question he had quietly uttered. So quietly had he said it that Jack had had to strain to hear it and Jack had very good hearing. The question puzzled Jack but what the hell, sometimes people went in a rounda bout way to get to the heart of an issue.

"Hell yeah, I'm scared all the time. I just don't let that stop me doing _anything_. Anyone who tells you their not afraid of anything is lying. Why are you scared of something?"

"There was a bully and…and I ran. I mean I wanted to fight but he was bigger and older and I was scared. I never been in a fight before, I've seen Sarah stab a mutie and I've seen people fight but I've never had to do it myself so I just ran. Am I a coward?" Jack listening carefully, suppressing the rising feelings when Sarah's name was mentioned, so that was it. He was afraid he was coward. Bloody Brotherhood, Jack thought sourly, their damn obsession with the Maxsons had probably made poor Arty feel he had to be perfect or he wasn't good enough.

"So what? You said he was bigger; you retreated from an unwinnable battle. That's just good military tactics isn't it"

"I suppose" Arthur considered this, but then continued unhappily "But you wouldn't of ran, Sarah wouldn't of ran, none of the Pride…"

"So what" Jacked interrupted angrily. He hadn't meant to be so aggressive but he was annoyed that every time _her_ bloody name was mentioned his heart skipped a bit. _Its just a bloody name_ he told himself furiously. Seeing that Arty was looking upset he swore under his breath and continued in a much kinder tone "You're younger and you've got a lot on your plate, next time it'll be fine."

"But I _want _to be a warrior like you. But I can't I'm a coward. And I can't even shoot; last time I did I just shot Sarah" He continued hurriedly "It was only a flesh wound…but I still shot her"

It's just a fucking name. Control yourself man.

Jack had listened as Arthur had quietly wheeled out his insecurities. And he couldn't help but smile for a couple of reasons. One for once it wasn't his fault and two, this was something that Jack could help with.

"I think I can help with the shooting Arty" As Jack said he stood up and stood an old wooden table on its side so that it stood up almost vertically resting on two of its legs to stop it falling backwards. Grabbing a piece of charcoal from the collapsed roof, evidently a fire had caused it to collapse, he drew the rough outline of man, well he drew a stick figure, Jack couldn't draw if his life depended on it.

"I happen to be a decent shot you know" Jack said with a grin as Arthur watched him a puzzled look on his face. This puzzled look turned one of delight as Jack pulled a laser rifle from his pack, it was the one he'd had taken from the Brotherhood knight, Jack had taken it so as not risk been shot in the back as he left the scene.

"So perhaps I could remedy the whole being a bad thing"

"That would be awesome"

"Well then" Jack grinned "Let's see what you got." The room target was not more than 10 metres away but Arthur's first three shots all flew wide, the last managed to hit the table but only the lower right corner.

"Not that bad" Jack reassured a disappointed Arthur "The gun is a little big for you. Still I think we can get you hitting that table every time. First off exhale before you fire, squeeze the trigger don't jerk it"

Jack demonstrated thudding three shots into the head of the 'man'.

"Now you" Jack watched as Arthur took position "Try kneeling, it'll help your accuracy. Take your time and pick your shot. If you're ever in a fire fight you need to let your squad know who you're firing at. Stay focused on the target, don't get distracted." Arthur still shot wide but he was getting closer, Jack smirked the kid was getting better each time.

* * *

Jack watched, amused, as Arthur attempted to hide a yawn. They were sitting on a crumbling brick wall that had marked the front garden which had seen better days. The kid was tired but happy. The two of them had stayed up into the early hours of the morning practising not only Arthur's shooting but a bit of hand to hand combat. Both of which he had begun to show some skill with. Jack had assured Arthur that as long as he remembered his stance when he was shooting and he practised every day that he'd become a good shot, jack doubted he'd be shooting any more Brotherhood knights. As for the hand to hand combat Arty was a natural, jack was pretty sure that little Arty would be able to kick his ass in a few years. He was sure that the training would give Arthur confidence in himself and more able to stand up to bullies. From what he could see it had worked, he had gifted the laser rifle to Arthur and fashioned him a sling from an old leather belt, the boy wore it proudly over his back imitating how Jack wore his rifle. Standing up he moved off towards the Citadel, arty falling into step behind him.

* * *

Checking their location on his pip boy Jack realized that they were in a part of DC that was regularly patrolled by the Brotherhood. Sure enough he could hear the tramp of power armoured boots heading towards them. Motioning for Arthur to stop moving jack stood still as he tried to work out their location from the echoes that bounced off the ruined buildings. They were approaching from the right. Time for him to leave and make sure they found the boy from a safe distance.

"This is where I take my leave Arty. Stay here and the patrol will find you and take you home. Keep practising and good luck. Remember if you are ever afraid take deep breaths and face it, overcome it and then do what's best whether that's running away or fighting. Trust me you're no coward. That's it I guess nothing more to say except goodbye Arty, see you around"

"Bye Jack" Jack gave him a grin and returned the wave. He pre-warned Arty he'd have to leave soon, he hadn't told the boy why, he wouldn't understand, the boy was after all a descendant of the founders of the Brotherhood. Still, Jack mused, hopefully the experience had made him a bit more sympathetic to the wastelanders.

Jack ducked down an alley about when he reached the end of the street and looked back to check the patrol had seen Arty. They had. When he was sure the kid was safe Jack turned and left heading for Rivet City. A blonde headed knight had reached the kid and was checking him for injury. Jack's heartbeat quickened but no it wasn't…her. Jack swore as he tried to erase her from his mind. Arty had mentioned her a lot when they were practising and somehow she'd wormed his way back into his head. Marking Rivet City on his pip boy Jack headed east; the Muddy Rudder was as good a place as any to bury his feelings under a mountain of liquor and there was always Trinnie if that wasn't enough.

* * *

Arty waved as he recognised Knight Walker who had moved out ahead of the patrol. The Knights eye's widened as she saw the boy and she rushed up to him. Arty rolled his eyes as she grabbed him to check him for injuries. The Wanderer hadn't been this fussy and he'd rescued him from super mutants.

"Are you ok Squire Maxson?" It took Arthur a few seconds to remember that he was Squire Maxson. It seemed ages since any one had called him that.

"What? Oh yes I'm fine"

"What happened? Did you escape? Are you hungry?" A flood of anxious questions were fired at him and Arty interrupted the flow before she could really get going.

"I'm fine the Wanderer saved me like five minutes after I ran away. I've just been at Rivet City before he brought me back here. I even learnt…" Arty trailed off as he noticed the pursed lips of Knight Walker. He assumed from the other knight's body language that they also had, under their helmets, similar expressions of distaste. Great, he thought to himself, I wonder if they'll ever tell me what he's done. He fell into formation with the other knights as headed back to the citadel, eyes scanning the ruins, his other senses alert for signs of ambush, just like Jack had taught him. He couldn't wait to get back and show Paladin Gunny his newfound marksmanship; he wouldn't be shooting Sarah again that was for sure.

* * *

Sarah walked into the council room with a relieved expression on her face, the Squire was back found almost right by the Citadel of all places. Her father was back to normal and had, after spending some time with the newly returned Squire, called an urgent meeting. Sarah assumed it would be to discuss what he missed while he had wallowed in his grief. She was therefore surprised to see the Pride present, including Gallows who returned earlier from his mission, shortly after the return of Squire Maxson. She took her place and couldn't help a smile as she realised that everything was normal again. The Squire was back and with him had returned her father's spirit and energy. He seemed ten years younger; personally Sarah was just pleased to see him up and about again.

"We are here to discuss the _rescue_ of Squire Maxson." Sarah frowned as she heard the inflection her father used when he said rescue. She sat up a little straighter and listened more intently as the Elder went on. "From what I have learnt from him, the Squire was rescued almost immediately after the ambush by the Lone Wanderer." There were some gasps round the room including an involuntary one from Sarah. She curled her hands into fists under the table as she thought angrily about that…that…man. "The fact he did return him immediately shows a lack of respect and a willingness to insult that adds to a long list of misdeeds. Knight Pendleton is in the infirmary with a knife wound as we speak and her comrade has a severe concussion. This can not continue." Elder Lyons brought his hand crashing down on the table to emphasise this point and she could hear mutterings of agreement from around the table. It was no wonder she thought the wanderer wasn't a popular man with this crowd.

First there was her father, he took all the wanderer's misdeeds to the brotherhood personally but the Squire and the yelling in the bailey took precedence.

Then you had Rothchild. He had been angry with the Wanderer ever since he refused to share the technology he had recovered from the Outcast Outpost. Rothchild had been particularly keen to see the Chinese stealth armour.

Star Paladin Cross, hers was more personal. The wanderer had both refused to take her with him to fix the purifier or tell her where his father was buried.

Paladin Tristan was actually about as neutral as you can get. A new addition to the council him and the wanderer had had no confrontations. Still he was a loyal man and took offence at the man's distrust of the Brotherhood.

Knight Artemis, well he didn't like anyone but the Wanderer had broken his nose after he had confronted him over Defender Sibley's death (They had been best friends). That one hadn't been too controversial actually as most people were pleased to see Artemis put in his place, still than mans nose had never set straight so Artemis had a visible reminder of the man's 'misdeeds' everyday.

Kodiak loved her father like a father and so the bailey incident and infuriated him just as much as it had Sarah, although most of her anger came from what she saw as a more personal betrayal.

Dusk, well she and the Wanderer had never got on ever since he made that crack about her first name being dawn. Dusk had taken offence to the sarcastic comment and been even more pissed off when he'd beaten her score on shooting range. Seeing it as a deliberate attempt to aggravate her, she was probably right.

Vargas felt the Wanderer had overshadowed the death of initiate Reddin, a loss he had never truly gotten over, and blamed the Wanderer for the cancellation of her funeral.

Glade thought of her as a little sister and so was angry that the Wanderer had hurt her, he had been the only one to figure out how she felt for him and he was almost as angry as her.

Gallows actually seemed to like the Wanderer, he was loyal to the Brotherhood but she saw what she believed to be a mutual respect between the two of them. Still he never said anything so it wasn't like he was going to defend the Wanderer.

And her, Sarah Lyons, who thought she'd loved him. He'd kissed her after all, just once, before he stepped into the control room of the purifier. But obviously he'd been toying with her or he wouldn't have yelled at and insulted her father, dumped the armour _she'd _given him at his feet and left for six months. Now, now she just wanted a little revenge. Realising she'd zoned out she re-focused on her father.

"…and because of these many acts of violence and disrespect towards the Brotherhood, we will take action. I am sending the Pride under Sentinel Lyons to track him down and bring him in. We will find out where he has hidden the technology he has amassed and imprison him, where he can impede our efforts no more."

Sarah let a smile grow on her face. She would be getting her revenge, because Gallows could track any man alive even the Wanderer. They'd leave immediately and be back the next day with the Wanderer in tow.


	7. Chapter 7

Jack was slumped in a dark corner of the Muddy Rudder; empty vodka bottles lay discarded in front of him. Jack was drunk. Not the happy-out-with-friends drunk but the sour, miserable depressed drunk. The cheap vodka burned his throat and felt sour in his stomach but one thing it was very good at doing was numbing feelings. Which was exactly what he needed because Jack was trying to stop feeling and just forget…forget Sarah Lyons. He had thought at one point that a relationship might be possible; he had even stolen that kiss when he thought he was doomed to die. But it never materialized, they were both busy, there was never time to talk, to sift through the myriad of emotions and they both had duties, his to the wasteland, hers to the Brotherhood. Then he'd left for the Pitt and the manner of his return had made sure that nothing would ever happen.

Drowning his problems in alcohol probably wasn't the healthiest of ways to deal with his feelings but it was the quickest. He was the Lone Wanderer and unfortunately that meant he didn't have time to mope around feeling sorry for himself, he had obligations to keep, heads to bang together and people to save. A never ending cycle that never gave him time to grieve, never gave him time to mourn, it just kept rolling on and he had to keep pace. Because that's what his life had become, a frantic dash from one problem to the next, never stopping, never ending.

He'd thought when he returned to Vault 101 that this was his chance to escape that life, to live in peace in what he had thought of as his home with the girl had thought was _the one_. Clearly that hadn't worked so well for him. So he wandered the wastes with nothing but a red baseball cap to remind of those first 18 years, when he had a home, a father and people he loved.

Jack signalled Bell to bring him over another bottle of vodka, clearly he hadn't quite managed to numb those pesky feelings yet. But giving up wasn't in Jack's nature and so he lifted the new vodka bottle to his lips. Tonight he'd given himself a break, a chance to be Jack and Jack just wanted to get drunk and forget, so that's what he was going to do. Tomorrow…tomorrow he'd be the Lone Wanderer again, the man everyone counted on to solve their problems.

* * *

Sarah and the rest of the Lyons Pride were camped outside Rivet City, sitting in the shelter usually occupied by the water caravan drivers. Sarah couldn't help but feel nervous as she stared at the creaking ship; it was the Lone Wanderer they were planning to capture after all. Looking around she saw she was not the only one who was feeling nervous. Dusk was cleaning her sniper rifle for the fourth time tonight and Glade was firing off jokes quicker than his gatling laser. She looked at the layout of the Muddy Rudder on the holodisk once more. Their contact, a disgruntled man named Sister, had given them the exact location of the Wanderer. Rivet City Security had given them the plans along with a promise not to interfere in the name of a continued friendship with the Brotherhood.

"Alright listen up squad, I'll go through the plan one last time and then we go." The Pride watched her intently as she ran through the plan gesturing to the blueprints as she went. When she finished the team nodded to indicate they were ready and they moved off, climbing up the metal ramps to reach the extended bridge.

The ship was quiet, Sarah thought as they made their way towards the Muddy Rudder. Evidently the security had made an effort to remove as many civilians as possible to avoid any collateral damage. The bar owner herself had been pre-warned about the impending assault. Sarah had been opposed to such precautions at first, but Harkness had made it clear that it was not negotiable. Damn that man, she just hoped the Wanderer hadn't clued on, he always was a perceptive little bastard. Sarah was also painfully aware of loud clanking footsteps the Pride's power armored boots made on the metal walkways. She winced inwardly as they echoed around ship. As they came to the door Sarah readied her rifle, he must be waiting for us, she thought bitterly as she opened the door and moved swiftly, eyes locking to where Sister had said the Wanderer was sitting. The Pride rushed through the door behind her, spreading out round the room and closing slowly on the Wanderer's position. Some of the tension left her as she saw his red baseball cap poking out from the corner booth.

"We've got him surrounded move in" she yelled the order wanting to give him no escape, the Pride converged on his position weapons held menacingly to show him there was no escape. Everyone was yelling telling him not to move, to put his hands up. Then there was silence as everyone took in the scene before them.

"Is…is he drunk?" Glade asked confused

"I…I don't know. Is it a trick? To catch us off guard?" Sarah asked the others. It just seemed too easy, too convenient. The mighty Lone Wanderer surrounded, drunk and helpless.

"Hey guys. How ya doin'? Pull up a rounds on me" Jack pulled himself up from where he'd collapsed onto the table and smiled happily at the six heavily armed Brotherhood soldiers, his words slurring as he spoke.

"Yeah he's drunk" Glade confirmed unnecessarily to the rest of the group as Jack slumped face down onto the table unconscious. The rest of the Pride just stared in silence.

"I guess...we just pick him up and take him home then." Sarah said in a firm tone. She had just wanted to break the silence that had descended as they stared at the 'Saviour of the wasteland' dead drunk and snoring. Sarah couldn't help but smirk as Glade threw Jack other his shoulder. The Lone Wanderer wasn't so aloof and untouchable now was he. Signalling Vargas to carry his things they began the journey back towards the citadel.

* * *

Jack's head was killing him. Groaning he tried to move hand to massage his head, he was surprised to find that his hand was immobilized behind the chair. This is not good; Jack thought to himself, being tied to a chair is never good. He tried to stretch his legs next but surprise, surprise they were also secured to the legs of his chair. Muttering to himself Jack slowly opened his eyes wincing at the sudden burst of light. As his eyes adjusted he found he recognised the room he was in, the Brotherhood's briefing room. Ah! This wasn't looking good for him. Perhaps, Jack reflected ruefully, getting drunk in Rivet City hadn't been his best idea after all. He had just needed to get Sarah Lyons out of his head but clearly that hadn't worked and Jack was pretty sure she'd be coming in here soon. So the getting drunk plan was a total failure then.

He was in the centre of the U shaped table, in a position where he could be seen by every chair around the table. Jack was also facing away from the door and so when the door opened all he could hear were the clatter of footsteps and the click as the door opened slowly and the sound of power armored footsteps in the room. As his company for the evening began to file in and take a seat Jack was able to recognise some faces. There was Elder Lyons at the head; to his left was Rothchild, Paladin Tristan, Knight Artemis and Knight-Captain Dusk. To Lyon's right there was an empty seat, Paladin Glade, Knight-Captain Gallows and Paladin Kodiak. Another power armored man stood behind him, Jack assumed that was Paladin Vargas. The final set of footsteps belonged to one Sarah Lyons. Jack studied his feet with great interest trying to take control of the tumult of emotions that arose as he saw her again. Attempting to distract himself Jack looked round the room and was slightly shocked to see they were all glaring at him. He wasn't that bad was he?

"Hi guys, long time no see. I see your keeping your power armor nice and shiny" Jack said cheerily despite the fact that he felt horrible and his head felt like someone was beating a drum in there.

"Wanderer we have captured you…"

"Didn't _really_ capture me did you, more sorta found me" Jack interrupted Elder Lyons.

"Wanderer we have _captured _you because of the crimes…"

"More like minor inconveniences"

"The crimes" Elder Lyons continued though there was now a definite edge to his voice "you have committed while the Brotherhood attempts to carry out our noble work. The most recent of which was kidnapping Squire Maxson, whose ancestors…"

"Borrowed"

"What?"

"I borrowed Arty, returned him good as new, some may argue better than when I borrowed him."

Jack cursed the Brotherhood helmets that made it so hard to gauge reactions of the others. The ones he could see didn't look too impressed but fighting back with jokes was about all the defiance he could muster at the moment. Sarah was glaring at him, once Jack thought ruefully, his comments would have at least raised that pretty smile that he loved to see…damn it Jack, not the time to get sentimental.

"I can see that you are not in cooperative mood Wanderer. In respect of what you have done we will try to talk this out again tomorrow. Hopefully you will not be so mocking." Elder Lyons jerked Jack from his thoughts of Sarah and back to his predicament.

"You clearly don't know me at all" Jack couldn't resist the last comment as they trailed out of the conference room. They turned out the lights leaving him in darkness but he didn't mind, his hang over was killing him. Hopefully tomorrow he'll recover and he could begin to plan his escape, for now he'd try to get some sleep.

It continued in the same vein for three days, they would ask him questions and he would throw jokes and sarcastic comments back at them. They wanted the technology he'd been hoarding over the past months, the stealth armor, and the T51b power armor, all that sort of stuff. Apparently the super mutants were becoming more and more numerous and the Brotherhood had to pull men back to the citadel as their numbers were thinned. they needed better technology to give them an edge over the numerically superior super mutants. Jack could see they were beginning to get frustrated so he was not surprised on the third knight when a grinning Artemis stood in front of him and informed that Elder Lyons had, reluctantly, authorised him to get the answers using more physical methods. Jack just told him to go to hell, he'd taken a beating before, how bad could this one be?

* * *

"You sure you want to shoot from this range Squire?" Sarah asked Arty nervously, she had seen him shoot and she didn't want the boy to embarrass himself in front of the rest of the Brotherhood. The boy hefted the laser rifle he'd had brought back with him from his 'adventure' in DC and grinned

"Hell yeah, and I told you call me Arty" he winked at Sarah and took his firing position staring down the range that was usually used by initiates to practice their small arms fire. He took his time, waiting for a couple of minutes as the rest of the bailey looked on. Sarah was beginning to wonder if the nerves had got to the boy when he fired three beams which smacked into the targets chest.

"Not bad eh? I'm been practicing you know" Arty grinned as the on looking knights and initiates applauded his efforts before Paladin Gunny started to yell and bully the unfortunate initiates back to their training.

"Jenkins! If he can hit the bloody target why can't you? Get over here and hit this bloody target you little mutie bastard." Arty laughed at the Paladin's berating of the hapless Jenkins before turning back round continue his weapons practice. Sarah stared more closely noting, not for the first time, that he had become a lot more confident since the Wanderer had returned him. His shooting had definitely improved in the short time since he had been back. The boy had even begun to pick up some of the Wanderer's mannerism like the winks and sarcastic comments.

"You've certainly improved Squire…"

"Arty, call me Arty all my friends do"

"…Arty. How has it improved so rapidly?"

"Jack gave me a few pointers"

"The Lone Wanderer?"

"He prefers Jack" Sarah ignored this comment. Since the first meeting she had refused to acknowledge his existence and had not gone to any meetings since. He was infuriating, she thought, she was so angry at him but he still found a way to make her smile, her whole attention had been on not letting a smile grow upon her face when he said he had 'borrowed' Arty.

"Sarah? You're doing that face again?"

"What face?"

"The dreamy one you do when anyone ever mentions Jack"

"I do not" She snapped back, trying to hide her horror that Arty had noticed her tendency to drift off when _he _was concerned.

"Jack does it too actually. The two of you are weird sometimes"

"He does?…I mean I don't care what the _Lone Wanderer _does."

"Sure" Arty muttered then he broke out in a grin as his last shot smacked into the targets head.


	8. Chapter 8

Sarah was sitting in her quarters cleaning her laser rifle, she didn't have to, there were scribes detailed to do it but she liked cleaning it, it relaxed her after a stressful day, ironically a stressful day usually involved her shooting someone or something with the rifle hence its need to be cleaned, she thought wryly. There was also the fact that her life depended on rifle and therefore she didn't want some scribe doing a half-assed job and leaving her in the shit when her patrol was ambushed by some muties. This way she knew it would work properly when she needed it to. She laid the rifle on her desk when she heard someone knock on the door and hers hands now free moved to answer the door. As she opened door she smiled as she came to face to face with her father. It had been a while since they had spent some father-daughter time together.

"Hello father"

"Sentinel" Sarah frowned; her father was in business mode then, clearly not a personal visit then.

"Elder, what is it?" Sarah switched to a more formal tone reflecting her fathers.

"I'd like you to come to the briefing room. Artemis thinks the Wanderer may be ready to talk now and as my field commander I thought you may have questions of your own to ask." Sarah didn't really want to be around Jack, there were still too many unresolved feelings, but she had served in the Brotherhood long enough to know the difference between an invitation and a politely worded order.

"I will join you shortly father. I get into more appropriate attire" Sarah gestured at the old leather mercenary uniform she was wearing in place of her power armor.

"Very well Sentinel, we will wait for your arrival before we begin" Sarah closed the door and moved back to her bed where her power armor was laid out. She quickly put it on and glanced in the mirror to check everything was in order before striding out of the room to go meet her father trying to ignore the nervous pit in her stomach. Damn Jack. She growled and firmly corrected herself he was the Lone Wanderer; she'd been spending too much time with Squire Maxson…or Arty as he called himself now.

As she pushed open the door she noticed that Jack, no the Wanderer, was behaving unusually…well. Her father was giving him a speech about respect and cooperation and there were no interruptions, no sarcastic remarks and no witty comments. Looking around she saw that it was only herself, the Wanderer, her father and Artemis in the room. She moved forward, towards her seat and only just managed to hold back the gasp as she saw his face.

He'd been beaten badly. His right eye was swollen and black from a vicious punch and the cheek on that side was badly swollen, blood had ran done from his nose and been left to dry. His lips were caked in blood. The rest of his face was covered in bruises and cuts, the cuts that only happened when you were punched by a power armored fist. She now noticed that since the first meeting they had removed his green armor and replaced it with a typical wastelander outfit, the sort that was made from old sacking. Judging from the bruises on his collarbone and the way he was hunched over Sarah realised that the beating had not been confined to his face. A wracking coughed swept through his body that was painful to hear, it finished with Jack spitting blood onto the floor. Artemis leapt up and smashed a blow in Jack's rib cage

"Don't mess up the floor scum." Artemis practically spat the last word but as he leaned back on the table Sarah could see a smirk on his face, evidently he was proud of his work.

Sarah stared at her father, his speech had moved on to consequences now, she couldn't believe he had authorized this…this torture. He was usually so fair and just, how could her father have done this. She left her thoughts just in time to hear her father ask the Wanderer a question.

"Where do you keep your energy weapon stockpiles? We know about the outcast outpost. We know about Fort Constantine. We know about the alien spaceship. The Brotherhood needs those weapons to survive so just tell us and the pain can stop. Where are they being stored?"

Sarah was staring at the Wanderer's face so hard she almost missed _alien spaceship_. Jack, she thought, what the hell have you been up to. Although it being Jack she really shouldn't have been so surprised, he had a tendency to be involved in the weird and wacky. Sarah sat there and watched as he raised his head and stared at her father, a scared, desperate look upon his face. He opened his mouth but his throat was sore and the words he spoke were unreliable. He swallowed and tried again the three Brotherhood members leaning in close to catch his words.

"Fuck you" Jack grinned and began to laugh, mocking them the only way he good, getting some measure of revenge for the hell he was going through. Sarah left quickly not wanting to witness the beating that she was sure would follow; it was hard enough seeing the results.

* * *

It was early the next morning when Sarah heard an insistent knocking on her door. Sarah woke alert, testament to years of sleeping in the field and pulled on some clothes before answering the door. Sarah opened it a crack intending to see who was there but Arty pushed it open and stormed into the room slamming the door behind him before whirling to face her.

"What the hell?" Arty practically yelled the question and Sarah silently thanked god that the walls in this place were so thick that it was unlikely anyone had heard it.

"What's wrong?" Sarah had a sinking feeling that she knew full well what was wrong and it concerned a certain prisoner currently situated in the briefing room.

"What do you mean _what's wrong? _You don't think it might have something to do with me seeing a certain friend of ours." Sinking feeling confirmed Sarah searched her brain for a way out of this. A part of her felt wowed by the amount of sarcasm the boy had picked up from Jack, then again the man tended to make a lasting impression.

"Hey! I did not know that _that _was going to happen"

"You didn't seem to care before. Glade told me you said that you'd like to give him a beating. Convenient that he got one."

"I was…I was just angry and upset. I didn't…I would never..." Sarah felt herself beginning to blush, Arty seemed to be very good knowing where to push.

"I know" Arty seemed to regret his accusation "I was just angry, I'd know you'd never…you know?"

"Thanks Squi…Arty." It did make her feel better to know that Arty believed in her like that. Sarah knew that some of the other guys in the Brotherhood thought of her as an ice queen and that hurt. She had to be this tough, detached officer to make sure she saved their asses and kept their respect but it didn't make her any less of a person. There were times when all she wanted to do was curl up in her bed and cry and there were times she had done exactly that.

"Your Father seems really angry about Jack 'kidnapping' me. I don't know why, he just left me to play with some kids while he asked about super mutants. Its…

"Wait he was investigating super mutants?"

"Yeah I heard him talking to Commander Harkness about it and then Jack said he had to ask some more questions and left." Sarah swallowed nervously at this latest piece of news, the Brotherhood had been concerned at the increase in super mutant activity and the one guy who knew why was never going to tell her…so long as he was a prisoner at least. She removed that particular thought from her mind, she could never betray the Brotherhood. But another little voice argued there would be no Brotherhood left if someone didn't solve the problem and as much as she hated to admit it, that was what the Wanderer did best, solve problems.

"Look Arty I gotta go talk to someone"

"Now? Its one in the morning"

"You woke me at one in the morning?"

"Yeah...um...I couldn't get away earlier" Arty shrugged nonchalantly "speaking of which, I'd better sneak back. Bye Sarah, I really hope you help him get out of here" With a meaningful look Arty slipped out the room heading to his own quarters. Sarah pulled some shoes on herself; she had to speak to a certain someone in the briefing room before she took _any _action what so ever.

* * *

Jack's head hurt, hell everything hurt he thought cursing his luck. Still it gave him a certain amount of satisfaction after seeing that bastard Artemis and Elder Lyons face after he'd laughed in their face. It was he reflected miserably the only way he could resist. He'd never been great at escaping spontaneously. Sure he'd escaped plenty of times before but he'd either let himself get caught in the first place or he'd buy himself some time to hide a few 'toys' to help him get out later. Unfortunately this time he'd been found dead drunk and totally unprepared, hell he'd been unconscious when they tied him up and he never left this goddamned chair. 'Toiletries' were taken care of using a bucket and a hole in the bottom of the chair, apparently they'd taken his reputation for escaping to heart. Jack made a mental note to stop Three Dog singing his praises or at the very least talk him down a bit, this Messiah of the Wasteland crap was making his enemies a little too cautious for his liking.

He'd lost track of the time long ago, he was restrained so he couldn't see his Pip boy, there were no windows and the lights were always off, his meals were irregular hell even his 'meetings' with the Elder were random. He had no idea whether it was day or night. It was a form of torture, Jack thought bitterly, he preferred the beatings if he was honest. He was used to taking pain; it was an everyday occurrence in his line of work, a sad fact of what his life had become. He heard the click as the door opened behind him and he mustered up the strength to call out cheerily

"Artemis old buddy back already. You know I'm really gonna miss this _chats _of ours. It's a wonder why you don't have any friends." A light cuff to the back of his head followed by a quick shhh-ing told him this was not Artemis, well that or this was a new and very unusual form of torture, couldn't be worse than the beatings Jack supposed, it was certainly better that the punch to the stomach that Artemis usually started with.

"Did you tell me to shhh? I don't want to tell you how to torture someone but that's not the usual way these things start you know. I suppose we can start again, wouldn't want you to be embarrassed in front of your torturer buddies now would we?"

"Shut it" As Sarah Lyons face came into focus in front of him Jack temporarily lost the ability to talk. He did however note the lack of power armor, which he really should've noticed as she came in. I suppose, he reasoned, your analytical skills fade somewhat when you've been brutally beaten. Still if Jack could hold off on the sarcasm it looked like Sarah might be his chance at freedom.

Yeah, Jack thought, I'm screwed.


	9. Chapter 9

Sarah leaned back onto the U shaped desk and just stared at Jack, he could almost see the gears in her head turning as she thought. After a while he began to get uncomfortable, sitting in silence wasn't something Jack was very good at. Usually he'd blurt out a random comment to break the silence but she had, very clearly, told him to shut up and he was trying to stay on her good side. Next on his list was whistling or humming but Jack was pretty sure that 'shut up' was also applicable to those two activities. The final item on his list was fidgeting with whatever was to hand, but seeing as he was tied up that wasn't an option either. Sighing resignedly Jack sat in the uncomfortable silence, his barely audible sigh earning him a glare from Sarah. Great so he was failing on the whole 'Don't piss off Sarah' plan as well.

Finally when Jack was just about ready to say anything, damning the consequences, to break the silence Sarah started to speak in a hushed tone.

"You were investigating the super mutants?"

"I can't remember. No idea why. Oh wait it might have something to do with the _repeated blows to the head. _I've been told it's not great for the memory." Sarah sighed at this although Jack had no idea why, by now people knew him well enough that they should be shocked when he _wasn't _been sarcastic.

"What if you weren't being repeatedly hit in the head? Would your memory return?"

"Would I still be tied to a chair? Hell would I be tied, handcuffed or in any way attached, against my will, to another object?"

"I thought that was implied" Sarah replied adopting a sweet, teasing tone. That only made Jack more suspicious but he didn't exactly have many other options.

"You had me at no more repeated blows to the head." Jack grinned then moaned; it was painful to smile.

"Well I have to talk to some people before I do anything"

"Are you sure that's wise, _people_ around here don't seem to like me, no idea why"

"Yes but _people _round here like me, I'm not a sarcastic ass like you"

"Well that's just rude; you're going to give me self esteem issues if you keep up with that." He was rewarded with a scowl from Sarah who glared at Jack as she stood up and headed for the door.

"You're going to have to wait another day for our deal to take effect"

"Oh good I was afraid I wasn't going to be able to say goodbye to Artemis. He's such a friendly bloke you know." Sarah was glad she was behind Jack because otherwise he would have seen the smile that crept, unbidden, onto her face. If he'd seen that he wouldn't have shut up for at least a week. Softly opening the door she headed back to her room, she'd wait till the morning and then talk with some friends, people she trusted to have the Brotherhood best intentions at heart, people who were good at what they did. Sarah couldn't believe that she was really going to do it; if someone had told her a week ago that she was going to break the Wanderer out of the citadel then she'd have laughed her head off then knocked theirs off. But here she was, doing exactly that.

* * *

Sarah stifled a yawn, it was early, very early and considering her midnight 'activities' she definitely hadn't gotten enough sleep. Still one of the advantages of being up this early was that there was hardly anyone about, Sarah knew what she was doing was hardly suspicious to the causal onlooker but she was nervous about all this clandestine crap, she was used to solving her problems by charging in guns blazing. Working in the shadows, sneaking around that was what the Wanderer did and he was welcome to it, it made Sarah feel dirty, give her good honest soldiering any day of the week.

The Bailey was deserted apart from one man; this particular man was blasting laser beams with deadly accuracy into a practice dummy. Knight-Captain Gallows was in his element. Sarah was admittedly nervous about talking to Gallows, he was loyal but his loyalty was to the Brotherhood not to Sarah. She hadn't really cared about that before after all they had been one and the same. Now she just hoped she could convince him to break the Wanderer out, if any one could do it was Gallows. If anyone could help keep the Wanderer in line it was Gallows. They had a mutual respect for each other and while Sarah wanted to break the Wanderer out she had no intention of letting the guy roam free. No she and a couple of others would be right with him to keep him on mission and looking out for the Brotherhoods interests.

"Gallows. Can we talk?" The man ceased firing and turned, saluting smartly. Sarah sighed the man was pure soldier.

"At ease" He ended the salute bout he still kept his ramrod straight posture. That was as close as Gallows ever got to being at ease. "I need to talk to you about something Gallows, something that needs to stay between us."

His helmeted head tilted almost imperceptibly to the right.

"It concerns the Wanderer"

The head tilted slightly more

"And breaking him out."

The head snapped straight again and Gallows turned in the direction of B ring and her fathers quarters.

"Wait! Listen to me it's for the good of the Brotherhood."

Gallows turned and faced her again the head shifting to the right once again

"I know you noticed the increase in Ugly activities, right?"

Gallows head gave the smallest nod Sarah had ever seen

"I want to know why and how we stop it. The Wanderer knows something, I don't he think he knows everything but he knows enough. We need to let him get to the bottom of it. We both know if anyone can, he can. We'll be right there beside him to make sure he puts a stop to whatever's going on. If the super mutants aren't stopped they are going to overrun us and the Brotherhood will be wiped out. So are you in?"

The helmeted head stared at her and Sarah shifted slightly uncomfortable under its enigmatic gaze. Finally it nodded slightly. Then he turned around and resumed his target practice.

"So meet in my quarters tonight at 0030. Good talk Gallows" The man didn't acknowledge her words but she knew he'd heard. She walked on heading for the commissary to kill some time and until it was a more respectable time.

* * *

Sarah waved as she saw Paladin Glade enter the commissary he grinned and waved back weaving through the sea of tables and people towards her. He was the only other member of the Pride that Sarah would ask to help her. As much as it hurt her to admit she just couldn't trust the others in this situation. Kodiak was even more loyal to her father than Sarah and took offence to the Wanderer's condemnation of the Scourge so there was no way that he'd support Sarah's chosen course of action. Dusk hated the Wanderer plain and simple, she didn't like his sarcasm and she was jealous of his marksmanship, she'd help save the Wanderer when the wasteland was green and leafy. As for Vargas, he still hadn't gotten over Reddin and the Wanderer's supposed overshadowing of her death. So that left Glade, the oldest man in the Pride and one she thought of as a big brother. He was truthfully the only man she ever felt comfortable around, she could relax and be herself without fear of being hit on.

"Hey" Glade smiled as he put down his tray of food and sat down next to her.

"Hey, listen I need to talk to you…about something important and secret"

"You know you can trust me" Glade said this seriously, the teasing glint in his eye was gone and he and he was all business.

"Me and Gallows are going to bust out the Wanderer, you in?"

"Sure" Glade gave her a small smile and tucked into his sugar bombs. Sarah smiled gratefully back at him. This is why she loved Glade like a brother, he trusted her explicitly. If she wanted to do something crazy, Glade always knew that she had a good reason for it.

"Thanks Glade"

"For what?"

"Trusting me"

"Oh that. I know you'll have a reason, and if you've managed to get Gallows on board then it's obviously a damn good reason. Now get some breakfast, I have feeling we are going to up all night and you're going to need the energy." Sarah nodded with a ghost of a smirk on her face. She was finally able to relax a bit now that she had some support and it now looked like she might actually be able to carry out her plan.

* * *

Sarah was pacing around her room, she was more nervous than she had ever been about any battle and she just wanted to get it over with. Most of the nervousness cam from the realisation that this time she did not go in knowing that she had the whole Brotherhood at her back, this time she only had two men…and the Wanderer and she was going against her beloved Brotherhood. She knew she was doing this to save it but that knowledge did not completely wash away the feeling that she was a traitor, betraying the organisation that her been an extended family throughout her life.

Sarah had left her door open so that Glade and Gallows could slip in quietly, they both arrived at the same time right at 0030, apparently Glade was as nervous as Sarah. Gallows was …well he was Gallows always punctual.

"Right guys this has to be quiet and most importantly no one can get killed or badly wounded, after all our enemies tonight are only Brothers doing their duty. Hell I'm unhappy about knocking them out but it's necessary. Once we get him outside we should be able to bluff our way out of the gates." Glade and Gallows nodded their agreement and they headed out. As they neared the briefing room Sarah and Gallows dropped back, leaving Glade to distract the guards.

Sarah wasn't sure what Glade said to the two guards but apparently it was very funny. The distraction worked well enough for Sarah and Gallows to get behind them and apply sleeper holds, choking the two unfortunate guards into unconsciousness.

"Glade watch them. Gallows retrieve his gear" Sarah hissed motioning towards the unconscious guards before entering the briefing room alone. Jack was slumped forward in his chair when she entered the room and she rushed forward when Jack remained silent. He was unconscious and on closer inspection she could see that he been very badly beaten during the day. Sarah shuddered with suppressed rage as she could make out the imprint of a boot running down the right side of his face. That bastard Artemis had no goddamn honour, she understood on some level that her father had been in a dark place since they had lost Arty and he fear of losing him and the rest of the Brotherhood had lead to this. But Artemis he was just a sick, twisted bastard. She shook him gently and insistently whispered his name hoping to awaken Jack but to no avail. Ah well she'd inform him that they'd be tagging along later, it wasn't like he ever had a say in the matter.

Sarah drew a knife and quickly slit his bonds wincing at the angry red rope burns that adorned his wrists. Heaving him up on her shoulder in a fireman's lift she exited the room. She was happy to see that Gallows had returned with the Wanderer's gear and the three of them quickly stole out onto the Bailey. As they approached the Gatehouse Sarah whispered a silent apology as dumped Jack on the ground and, grabbing him by the collar, proceeded to drag him along the floor.

"Open the gate" She called out to Paladin Bael who glanced out suspiciously at them.

"Why"

"Father wants to give this one a little midnight swim. From the look of him I'd say that it won't be a pleasant one" Looking at the battered Wanderer and the way Sarah was dragging him seemed to assuage much of the mans doubt. It was probably Gallows who made him drop any lingering doubts. Many in the Brotherhood may not have liked the man but his loyalty to the Brotherhood was above reproach. As they walked out the Citadel and into the wasteland Sarah heard Jack mumble

"Why the hell you'd have to drag me across the Bailey? Two of you could've just carried me."

"We just rescued your ungrateful ass" Sarah hissed back annoyed at his tone

"Well next time I'll find some one else"

"No one else there likes you"

"Not true I think that Colvin was beginning to warm to me and that Knight Walker she seemed to have a soft spot for me"

"Shut up" Realising that at that discretion was probably the better part of valour and that he'd hit a sore spot, Jack for the first time in his eighteen years followed that instruction to the letter.


	10. Chapter 10

**Sorry it's a bit late been buy lately, still here it is. Hope it was worth the wait.**

Jack was glad that Gallows had joined the small rescue party. It meant that, as they moved through the dark DC streets, he could relax and not fight to stay conscious and alert for any signs of danger. Sarah and Glade had shown how perceptive they were when they blundered into that ambush and he'd been forced to rescue Arty. Perhaps he was being a bit too harsh, by normal standards Sarah was a gifted soldier who could often see an ambush coming. However in his and Gallows' world you _always_ had to see it coming because there was no back up when you wandered the wasteland alone. Not that Jack wanted any back up, he didn't want anyone dying for him, that had happened too many times and he wasn't going to let it happen again. Being alone stopped him getting close enough to feel that raw, burning grief that had seared through him when his father had died.

Since he was awake Jack raised his head to see if he could work out where in DC he was. He stifled a groan as Glade slipped on a piece of rubble and his injured ribs knocked into his shoulder armour. He'd much preferred Sarah carrying him, she was much more sure footed, or at least that's what he told himself. Nothing to do with any lingering feelings he assured himself. He smirked despite the pain as he as saw the Marigold Metro. Clearing his bruised throat he called Sarah's name, his voice must've been weak because despite being only few yards away she didn't reply...that or she was ignoring him, which actually was probably the more likely answer. He tried once more to attract her attention, this time he saw her eyes flick towards him before returning to the road ahead. Glade took pity on him and called out to Sarah.

"I know you're pissed at the guy for causing all this" Jack took offence to that but realised it wasn't wise to piss off the one member of the Brotherhood who didn't seem to hate him. "but we've rescued him now so you might as well hear what he has to say"

"Fine, but I swear one more sarcastic comment about me or the Brotherhood and I'm gonna…"

"I'm sure he's not that stupid" Jack was pretty sure that was directed at him.

"Fine, Gallows hold up so I can talk to our 'friend'" Sarah stormed up Jack, who'd been placed on the ground by Glade.

"What?"

"I have the key to a place in Grayditch if you want to lay low for a while"

"And you're telling me this now"

"I was unconscious earlier" Jack bit back the sarcastic comment that was about to follow this, he had decided to take Glade's 'advice'.

"Yes, well…" Sarah went a bit pink as she remembered that fact and Jack tried not to look amused. "Gallows can you lead us to Grayditch"

The special operations soldier didn't answer, he merely started walking again. Sarah smiled sweetly at Jack

"A man of few words, I know someone who could learn from him"

"Yeah that Glade's a real chatterbox. Chat, chat, chat all day long" That one slipped out before Jack could himself. He had a feeling that he was going to pay for that in the next couple of hours. His suspicions were confirmed when Glade lifted him roughly back onto his shoulders, he rteally had to learn when to shut his mouth.

* * *

Sarah shrugged of the power armour with a moan of delight., it was a blisteringly hot day in DC, the kind that made marching in power armour a living hell. After Glade dumped the Wanderer on the couch, he did the same, stretching out his tired muscles which, according to his grunts of pain, had gotten very tired lugging the Wanderer round. Sarah had off loaded him onto Glade as soon as she realised it he was conscious. The stress of taking him and leaving the Brotherhood had not left with the patience to deal with a conscious Wanderer. No, she thought herself, she'd save that pleasure for after she'd had nice long sleep and she had some food in her belly.

The first thing Sarah noticed as she walked back into the lounge of the Grayditch house was that the Wanderer had his top off. Admittedly most of his torso and arms were covered in bandages but she could make out toned muscles on his slim physique. Sarah growled at herself as she continued to stare, she was a paladin of the Brotherhood of Steel not some school girl with a crush. She started as she noticed the Wanderer's eyes open and looking right at her. She could feel her cheeks burning bright red and she quickly began to talk, all the while wishing the ground would open up or a crowd of muties would burst in anything to stop those blue eyes staring at her as they twinkled with amusement.

"So?" Sarah coughed self-consciously "how bad are your injuries?"

"From what Glade tells me I have a bruised larynx, several cracked ribs a dislocated shoulder and a lot of swelling on my face. So bed-rest is in order but apparently couch rest will have to do" he winced as finished speaking

"Are you in a lot of pain, I could get you some Med-X?"

"No…it's just...that was a terrible joke. I mean truly awful. I'm ashamed of it" Sarah huffed, not amused by the Wanderer's antics

"Look Wanderer…"

"Jack"

"Wha…" Sarah cleared her throat "What?"

"Call me Jack, I prefer it to _the Lone Wanderer_, at the very least it's easier to say"

"I don't think"

"Aw come one, we're all friends here"

"No!"

"No?"

"No! You can't just waltz back into my life and pick up where we left off. You betrayed me…I mean you betrayed the Brotherhood and then you just left, you didn't even take the time to talk to me or even say goodbye. I thought we were friends."

"We were…" Jack began weakly before Sarah cut him off

"If we were friends why didn't you talk to me before you yelled at the Elder of the Brotherhood who happens to be _my father_. Did you not trust me?"

"I trusted…I still trust you with my life"

"Fine then tell me why, why did you decide that you weren't going to be friends with the Brotherhood. What the hell happened in the Pitt? Tell me if you're my _friend_"

"Its complicated" Jack replied quietly, wincing in preparation for the onslaught he knew would be hurled against him

"It's always _complicated_. It's _complicated _whenever someone asked you a question you don't want to answer you just dodge around with a sarcastic remark. Well I'm sick of it, so let me make this clear before I even consider the possibility that we might be friends again, you'd better cut the bullshit and tell me what the hell happened…_Jack_"

"You know what Wanderer's fine" Jack glared at Sarah as he spoke, there was no way in hell that he was opening that can of worms, it was better that she just hate him, that was the way it had to be.

"Fine. Super Mutants? What do you know?" Sarah said gruffly still fuming from the argument

"Not much. I know that the mercs are being paid _not _to kill them and the Raiders are being paid to protect the caravans. I might've been able to find out why but then some lovely people in shiny power armour took me for a relaxing vacation to the citadel" Jack glared pointedly at Sarah who had the grace to blush.

"For the record I didn't know what they were going to do"

"Oh no the plan was give me chocolates and massages when I refused to 'fess up. What did you think was going to happen" Sarah rose angrily at this and stuck her face in Jacks.

"Fuck you. I thought you might at least have some respect for me. Enough to know that that's not how I do things" Jack stared right back at her, normally he might have swallowed his pride and apologised but his face was swollen and hurt like hell, in fact he whole body ached. And it was Sarah she just pushed his buttons and there was no way he was going to back down. The staring contest was ended with a stinging slap from Sarah, the pain of this on top of all the other injuries on Jack's exhausted and battered body served to knock him into unconsciousness. The grief from leaving the Brotherhood, his lack of respect and the regret and knocking out a badly injured and defenceless man made Sarah bite back tears as she retreated to the room she had taken as her own. She rushed passed an open mouthed Glade who stared from the top of stairs.

"What the hell have I gotten myself into?"

* * *

Jack swore as he returned to consciousness, he could have handled that better, a lot better than he did. The pain didn't help it was constantly there in the background fraying his temper and making him say things he wouldn't usually say. Jack didn't bother to open his eyes he just wanted to lie in the darkness. As he shifted he banged his ribs on his arm, he groaned at the stab of pain and spoke out loud

"Way to go Jack; piss off the person who saved you from a sadistic knight"

"Yeah not your best move" Glade's reply startled Jack who had assumed he was alone in his misery. Looking over he could see that Glade was sitting on a stool cleaning a mini gun that he must have borrowed from the small stash that Jack kept here.

"Pain and thinking don't exactly go together"

"That's just an excuse, she cares about you. she denies it of course, she's been independent all her life and she doesn't want to admit to something like that, she sees it as a weakness"

"It is"

"How old are you?"

"What does that have to do with anything?"

"Just answer the damn question"

"19"

"You're way too cynical to be nineteen. Caring about someone's not a weakness"

"I had to grow up fast and learn on my feet. I made a lot of mistakes along the way but I learned from those mistakes. I learned that if you care about people they'll either be used against you or they'll end up dead. I'm fed up of losing loved ones so I just don't have any and I'm not looking for any"

"Wow, is The Lone Wanderer being serious?"

"I am occasionally" Jack grinned "I can be serious, I just choose not to be. Its more fun you see. Do you Brotherhood types understand 'fun'?"

"Here we go, things start to get a little too serious and you just hide behind a wall of sarcasm. You don't let anyone get close to you. What's going to happen when you end up dead, what are people going to say about you?"

"Here lies Jack, he lived to the ripe old age of 103?"

"Ha fucking ha. Are you being serious?"

"No, I'll be surprised if I reach 20" Jack said this quietly and he could see Glade strain as he tried to catch what he said.

"I'm sure you will" Apparently he had heard.

"Why lots of people die young and I'm in considerably more danger than _most people_. I'm 19 and I've probably been in more fights than people twice my age. Everyone's luck runs out." Glade nodded at the truth of that last statement, it was something every soldier knew, luck is what keeps them alive. You could be the most skilled fighter in the wasteland but a recruit with a whole lot of luck could kill you with a one in a million shot.

"All the more reason to apologise before time runs out"

"I doubt it'll make a difference. I just have to solve the mutie problem and everyone can go home happy"

"You underestimate yourself Wanderer, you make a difference to people. Look at the Squire…or Arty as he calls himself now. You take him away for a week and he's like a new kid. You make a difference."

"Call me Jack"

"Why we friends now? What happened to all that shit about not wanting to get close to someone"

"It's a name. It's my name. I'm not some fucking robot called the _Lone fucking Wanderer_, I'm a person and at least I kind of feel a bit more like one when people call me by their name. No one ever does, but maybe one day enough people will that I don't feel like my express purpose in life is killing" Jack was almost shouting by the end and Glade held his hands up in submission.

"Fine Jack it is"


	11. Chapter 11

They ate together in the lounge of the Grayditch house in silence. Glade had insisted on it arguing that they were a team, at least until this was all over and this would help them to bond by having the opportunity to talk. Not that there was much talking, Jack thought, but that was to be expected considering the present company. Gallows rarely spoke and even if he did it rarely went beyond single syllables, it was remarkable how much meaning the man could put into a gesture. As for Sarah it had been three days since their argument and he could tell that she was still furious at him. In order to avoid another confrontation Jack kept silent, trying to think about any of his contacts who could help point in the direction of the man paying the mercenaries not to kill super mutants.

The mercenaries themselves did not know if Reilly's situation was true for the Talon Company as well. According to her the job was delivered via courier to their base with and advance payment of 1,000 caps to sure the buyer was serious. All future payments were made via dead drop and Reilly also had orders to make sure the Talon Company refrained from killing super mutants. Jack had tried to track down the courier but the man had left the capital wasteland heading for the Mohave Desert.

The raider's involvement meant that whoever it was, they were powerful. The Raiders only respected one thing, strength, and if they were following someone else's orders it was because they knew that the guy could crush them if they didn't. this meant the mystery person had to be in charge of a effective military force and that cost a lot of caps, and that was on top of paying the raiders and mercenaries. So whoever it was extraordinarily wealthy.

The orders to protect the caravans was interesting, it meant that someone was using them to get supplies specifically weapons and armour, the mystery person's army perhaps or at the very least they were hoarding weapons and armour for said army, Jack was sure he would have found out if a significant armed force was gathering anywhere within the capital wasteland, besides there hadn't been an extra food sold to feed an army.

His best chance of turning up a new lead was tracing where the weapons went. He knew there was an increase in weapon and armour sales so perhaps he could find someone who actually knew what was going on or at the very least knows someone who does. Jack grinned, he had invested heavily in the caravans so they owed him big time, at least enough for the caravans to get a couple of new guards. After all these were dangerous times.

"It's been three days" Sarah's comment snapped him out of his internal planning

"He's been injured Sarah, he still is, give him time" Glade had been trying to play the peace maker all week. Jack was pretty sure Glade thought Sarah would kill him if they got at it as bad as last time. In his weakened state Glade was probably right, Jack admitted to himself.

"It just so happens that I have a plan" Gallows tilted his head slightly and stared at Jack. The man had finally removed his power armour after the heat had proved too much for even his supernatural endurance. Jack was surprised to see that he was an African-American with short black hair, then again it was Gallows, he'd have been just surprised to see a Caucasian with blond hair. Being in power armour just suited the man. Jack was glad they had removed it, the armour, inscribed with the Brotherhood's symbol wasn't exactly subtle.

"Jack" Glade tapped him on the shoulder "Your plan?"

"You and Sarah are going to become caravan guards for one Lucky Harith. He owes me a couple of favours so it should be easy enough getting you both a position."

"Why me and Glade" Sarah scowled "Are you too good for caravan work?"

"No" Jack kept his voice calm and tried not to sound condescending "But you and Glade aren't very good at stealth. Myself and Gallows will be shadowing the caravan. I think you'll agree we are best suited for the task." Gallows nodded in agreement and this prevented Sarah from arguing the point any further, she was a good commander and knew that she had to utilize her men's strengths.

"Why are we shadowing the caravans exactly" Glade asked

"Increase in weapons shipments coupled with the raider's being told to protect them points to someone wanting the caravans to get through so they can use them. I need to generate some leads and following the shipments seems to be the best course of action"

"So what we find a lead, we just wander with the caravan while you and Gallows chase the lead" Sarah asked, clearly not thrilled with being left behind

"That's how it _has _to be. We'll check in with you every three days, if we miss one you know we're chasing the lead and then we will meet in Moriarty's Bar in Megaton"

"How do we know you won't just skip out on us, you've already made it clear you prefer to work alone" Sarah asked bitterly, her distrust evident in her voice. In answer Jack jerked a thumb at Gallows who nodded in agreement. Sarah was satisfied by this answer.

"Look Sarah I'm in no position to do any undercover work" Jack pointed at his face which was still mottled by bruises "I'd stick out like a sore thumb. So you're going to have to get use to it for now, I give you my word that I'll keep you in the loop"

"I don't trust you, I trust Gallows" Sarah said staring angrily at Jack. Ouch that actually kind of hurt, Jack thought, clearly he'd hurt her more than he thought when he left the Brotherhood all those months ago.

"Fine, we have a plan. First thing tomorrow we head for Megaton. I'm afraid you'll have to leave your power armour there, it sticks out too much" This last remark was directed at Gallows who nodded reluctantly. "I can give you some combat armour from my armoury. We stay there one night and then we head to Canterbury Commons where we wait for Harith to roll into town" Jack grinned despite the tense atmosphere, finally he had a plan.

* * *

That…that man was so infuriating, Sarah thought angrily as she paced about the room she had taken as her own for the three days, it was a room Sarah had spent a lot of time in. She had refused to come out and Glade had delivered meals to her room instead of her eating with the others. She hadn't wanted to face the Wanderer because she was still so angry at him for insinuating she would have gone along with torture. She knew that in the course of her service to the Brotherhood that she had done things that were, at best, morally questionable. She lived it through without regrets because she believed that, without a doubt, the Brotherhood were a force for good. That and she lived by her own moral code which kept her from becoming just another thug with a gun. Torture would violate that code and the bloody Wanderer just ignored what he had learnt about her in all the time he had spent with her and just assumed she approved of torture. The cheek of it was mind-blowing.

Part of her reasoned that the man had been in enormous pain and unable to think straight and that's why he'd said what he'd said. He still was in enormous pain, the only reason he was moving around was because of his high pain threshold, willpower and a whole lot of med-X. But another part was unable to forgive him, this part felt that he should have known she never do something like that, unless he never really cared about her at all. As she re-played all her encounters with the Wanderer she had decided the latter was true, that she was just another of the Wanderer's famous 'contacts', someone he used to get what he wanted and then just left. Isn't that what he had done after all, used her and the rest of the Brotherhood to defeat the Enclave and get Project Purity running. After all that was accomplished he just left, coming back occasionally to speak to Rothchild about some new technology or trade with Knight Durga. Sure he'd stop by to talk, ask if she wanted to grab some lunch but he never stayed longer than he had to. It had hurt and she'd never understood until now, she was a 'contact' that he was keeping ready for some crisis. He'd made it perfectly clear he didn't have feelings for her.

So Sarah had come to a decision about the Wanderer and, on the third day, she had eaten with the rest of them. She had decided to treat him with a cold contempt; she would use him like he had used her. Once the super mutants were sorted out she would have nothing more to do with him, if he got himself captured again then he'd have to find some one else to break him out because she was done going out of her way to help him.

* * *

Jack pulled his battered body off of the sofa as his Pip boy alarm sounded off; telling him it was 6am, time to get ready to march. Pressing a button he ended the klaxon like sound emanating from the device. Jack groaned as he sat up, his ribs protesting at the movement. Reaching over to the end table he grabbed a syringe of Med-X and injected it into himself, he'd see Doc Church while he was in Megaton about his injuries; hopefully he'd have a treatment which would allow him to alleviate the pain without pumping himself full of drugs. He knew realistically that he should still be resting but there was no time for that, Sarah had been right yesterday, three days was too long to sit about and do nothing.

While his body was more or less numb Jack put new bandages on his torso and arms, knowing that he might not have time to do it later. He was slightly apprehensive about visiting Megaton as word was sure to get back to the Brotherhood about his location, hell if they were unlucky they might run into Brotherhood knights delivering water. While he knew that his temporary companions were good in a fight he doubted they'd be willing to fight Brotherhood knights which would make it difficult to subdue them. Still it had to be done, Sarah, Glade and Gallows needed new armour and weapons and he kept an armoury in his Megaton house where he could outfit them.

It took longer than usual to put on his battle armour, his injuries making his movements slow and erratic. Finally he pulled on his red baseball cap and strapped on his hunting rifle. This made him feel slightly better. It was sad but that baseball cap and rifle had been with him so long that they felt like they were part of him and he never felt whole without them.

He turned as he heard someone coming down the stairs and saw Gallows in his power armour. Jack had no spare clothes stored in the house so they would have to wear them until they got to Megaton where they would they would leave their precious power armour in the safety of his Megaton house. Jack nodded to Gallows as he checked his hunting rifle over, checking it was clean and undamaged from its brief stay in the citadel. Gallows took a seat opposite him and did the same with his laser rifle; there was silence as the two veterans completed the necessary checks that had saved their lives countless times. This was one of the few times when Jack was silent, focusing his attention on the job in hand, besides, Jack reflected, Gallows was no fun to tease anyway.

Finally when Sarah and Glade came down stairs, ready to go, Jack slowly stood up taking care so as not to aggravate his injuries and they left the house, heading north towards Megaton. It shouldn't, Jack thought, be a dangerous journey as there were few super mutants in this area and Raiders were not going to attack three fully armoured Brotherhood soldiers. And the chances of running into a Outcast patrol were pretty remote so Jack whistled slightly as they marched through the ruins confident that, for once, he'd have a peaceful journey.


	12. Chapter 12

**Sorry it took a while, have been busy lately. Still I'm soldiering on and the chapters will keep on coming. Thanks for reading the story any comments or advice are appreciated.**

Gallows heard them first; Jack noticed the sudden change in his posture and hurried up to Gallows from his position at the rear of the small column. As he got closer he could hear what had caused Gallows to stop and draw his weapon. The steady thump of power armoured boots heading towards them, echoing of the ruins.

"Shit" Jack exclaimed, so much for a peaceful journey to Megaton. "Twenty?" He asked Gallows who nodded in agreement and held up his hand fingers outstretched "Only five minutes? Shit!" Turning he scanned for a defensible position, a ghost of a smile came to his lips as he spied an old building opposite. Three of the four walls were intact preventing them from being flanked; the front wall was crumbling but still offered enough cover for the coming fire fight. He always had his mines if they needed to create an escape route.

"There" He pointed at the building and Gallows nodded his agreement. Jack dug around in his pack and handed Gallows half of his mine supply. Grabbing them the man began to lay them out in the places which offered the attackers the best cover, the mines would force them to stay in the open.

"What the hell are you two doing?" Sarah's asked, clearly confused by the two men's behaviour.

"Power armoured troops approaching"

"How do the fuck do you know?"

"Gallows heard them, then I heard them, now get in that damn building and prepare for a fight" Jacked sighed at Sarah and Glade's lack of perceptiveness. The two were very good in a fight skilled with both ranged weaponry and hand to hand combat but they were truly awful at recon. Glade had taken Jack at his word as was lumbering over to the building with his mini gun. Sarah, unfortunately, didn't seem to believe him although Jack suspected that she was just trying to piss him off. She'd been trying to ever since their argument and she constantly contradicted him, Jack's only consolation was that he was usually right and so had Gallows support. He was pretty sure Sarah was spoiling for a fight so she could vent some anger but Jack was not going to oblige her. Even uninjured he wasn't sure he could beat her in unarmed combat. Sarah was unnervingly agile in the bulky power armour, Jack still had an advantage in speed but her power armour assisted strength kind of cancelled out that advantage. Injured Jack knew that he didn't stand a chance of winning.

"What if it's Brotherhood?" Sarah asked, her concern about fighting her brothers slipping through her mouth"

"Then we run, lovely day for a brisk jog, supposed to be good for your health too" Jack made the comment over his shoulder as went to join Gallows and Glade who were making firing positions in the building. Leaping over a mound of rubble Jack headed to the remnants of a window and propped his rifle beside it. On a half buried desk Jack laid out .32 rounds from his pack. Then he picked up his rifle and crouched by the window, the barrel of his rifle pointing to the junction where the power armoured soldiers would appear.

* * *

Sarah did not linger outside their makeshift defenses for too long, hurrying through the gap which was been blocked off by Glade, who was dragging tables over to impede anyone attempting to rush the building. Sarah took a position behind one of these desks inwardly fuming at the Wanderer's casual usurpation of her command. He just gave her no respect and the other two just seemed to go along with him. Him and Gallows had decided what to do without even bothering to consult her and Glade had just listened to his orders without checking with her first. It was not that she thought she could do a better job, if they had consulted her she would have done the same thing. Her problem was that the Wanderer had no respect for the concept of a chain of command. Sarah needed to be involved to keep that chain intact, after all she was the ranking Brotherhood member. Not that Sarah would ever bring that up in front of the Wanderer; he would just chuckle and turn away from her. In his world he was under nobodies command, he would follow an order if he agreed with it or if the person had more expertise in that area, otherwise he'd just do his own thing. His brief stint as a Brotherhood Knight had done nothing to alter that.

She banished such for from her mind as she prepared for the coming fight, she was more nervous than usual because there was the possibility that they were about to fight a Brotherhood patrol. If she killed one of her brothers or sisters she would never forgive herself and the Brotherhood would never take her back. Sarah prayed fervently that it was Outcast soldiers heading towards them, she knew that they would attack Jack and she had been spoiling for a fight with them ever since they had abandoned the Brotherhood, it had been a betrayal that Sarah had took personally.

Casting a trained eye around the makeshift defences Sarah was proud to see that Gallows and Glade had done their job well and any enemy would have trouble attacking the building they currently occupied. Despite her apprehensions she was looking forward to this fight, the Wanderer had always mocked the 'clunky and unimaginative' style that the Brotherhood used and Sarah and the two Pride members would show him how the best of the best fought, maybe then they'd get a bit of respect.

Well she said they but what she meant was everyone except Gallows who already had the Wanderer's respect. That had rubbed salt in the wound for Sarah who had never felt she had earned his respect, something which, before the Pitt, she had been desperate to earn, now she just wanted to shut him up and show him he wasn't the only one who could fight.

* * *

Jack looked around at his three companions, their body language telling him they were nervous, very nervous. They were veterans so he knew it was not the prospect of a fight that had made so anxious. It was probably the fear that this would be a Brotherhood patrol, Jack was kind of hoping it wasn't as well. It wasn't that he was unwilling to shoot them, after what the bastards did to him in the Citadel he'd quite happily open fire on the self righteous assholes. It was the fact that his companions wouldn't stand for it and, in his current condition, he knew that he needed them. It would also upset Sarah.

That woman had really gotten under his skin and her new cold and distant attitude was starting to hurt, as much as he wanted to deny it there were definitely 'feelings'. At least when she had been angry at him he knew that she cared and that had been a comfort. Now…now she didn't seem to feel anything towards him and that scared him more than anything, he knew it was pathetic but he tried to squash those feelings and they refused to go away. When she had rescued him Jack had been relieved that she still cared after he had left the Brotherhood and he had begun to believe that they might be able to have some sort of relationship. But ever since that damn argument she had been distant towards him. Earlier Jack had conquered his stubbornness and gone to apologise but Sarah did not even hear him out, she had cut him off before he could even get going and walked off.

"Focus Jack" he growled to himself, "now is not the time to wrestle with your anxieties, you've got a fight a win" he saw Glade giving him a strange look and he grinned back, the man turned to look forward again shaking his head. Jack turned as well because the clanking had reached a crescendo as the power armoured soldiers came into view, the red and black power show clearly against the dull grey and brown of the ruins. Jack could see his companions visibly relax as they realised they would not have to fight their brothers. Jack had a small smile too, nothing like a fight to take your mind of things.

The column of Outcast's had spotted Sarah and Glade, whose stuck quite clearly in their bulky power armour. Might as well announce myself, Jack thought, and after all they're gonna find out sooner or later. Standing up he drew in a breath and yelled out to the onlooking Outcasts, waving as he did so.

"Hey guys, don't suppose you're here for my birthday? How the hell'd you guys know anyhow?" The was a roar of anger as the Outcasts spotted him, his red baseball cap and green armour were basically a flashing neon sign announcing 'I am the Lone Wanderer'.

"They don't like you very much Jack" Glade been calling him that since their talk, much too Sarah's annoyance, she deliberately only referred to Jack as _the lone wanderer._

"No that was a roar of joy, they…" His remark was interrupted as an over zealous Outcast lobbed a grenade that fell well short, it did however serve to show that they obviously intended to attack. "Huh, I guess they don't like me, you think you know a guy eh?"

Jack's rifle had a longer killing range than the laser weaponry and he opened first a bullet whipping into the helmeted head of the foremost Outcast soldier, whipping him backwards. The Outcast had obviously not been expecting accurate fire from that distance and scattered into cover. There were still eleven left picking their way forward more cautiously. Jack held his fire; from this range their armour did a reasonable job of stopping his bullets. He waited while they came forward for a clear headshot. The occasional explosion boomed as the Outcasts discovered the mines Gallows had laid out for them. Jack scored two more kills before they reached the other side of the street, there was nothing but open road between them now and his companions were ready to open fire as soon as they tried to emerge and rush them. He was not sure of the exact number there had been a handful of mine but with their power armour there was no telling how much damage had been done, there were a few body parts splayed about, showing that mines had caused casualties.

There was a brief period of silence as the remaining Outcasts worked up the courage to charge and the with a defiant roar they charged bathing the ruins in a salvo of a laser fire. Jack ducked as shots whined over his head and he heard the rest of his party open up in reply. Apparently the Outcast were focusing their fire on him. Popping up again he let of a shot which smacked one of them. He glanced up quickly and identified the one in charge, he put their head in his sights and squeezed the trigger, pausing only to watch them crumple to the floor before he ducked down again to reload his rifle.

The attack stalled after that and the rest were shot down where they stood, the Outcasts asked for no quarter and they were given none. When they were all down the four of them moved forward making sure that none of them were pretending to be dead. Jack, ignoring the looks he was getting from Sarah and Glade, searched the bodies for anything useful before the four of them started north again, heading to Megaton. So much, though Jack, for a peaceful journey.


	13. Chapter 13

**Sorry that it's been so long, been very busy recently with holidays and hiking. Basically I haven't had much access to a computer. My writing pace will pick up again soon but until then I've managed to type up a short chapter to show I'm still going. Thanks for reading** **this and again I apologize for the delay and one I have regular access to a computer again i will start pumping out the chapters again/**

Jack winced slightly as Doc Church, Megaton's resident doctor, examined his ribs occasionally poking and prodding. He shuffled uncomfortably trying to find a more comfortable way to sit on the desk in the Doctor's surgery. The Doc claimed he had to poke to identify how serious the injuries were but Jack suspected he was just getting revenge for their last poker game, where Jack had cleaned house. Still, he reflected, best not argue with the doctor it's not like I know any better. Despite his Dad being a doctor Jack had never taken much of an interest in medicine, he was a good field medic but that was it, when he was seriously injured he had to go to the professionals.

"Well you're pretty banged up" Doc Church commented gruffly as stood up, stretching out his back.

"Really I hadn't noticed. I'd just come in because of a cold"

"Ha ha" The Doc growled, he did not have a sense of humour Jack thought disapprovingly, that was why he didn't completely trust the man, well that and he used to work in Paradise Falls but it was mostly the lack of a sense of humour.

"So think of any special solutions" In answer the Doc smiled slightly and hefted a large syringe. Crap, Jack had forgotten that the Doc did have a sense of humour; it was just a very sadistic one.

"Just the one"

"What the hells in that"

"A blend of Med-X, Stimpaks, xander root and broc flowers, it should dull the pain and speed the healing process. I got the recipe from a tribal who used to live in…ah what was the name…Zion"

"Oh yeah? How well does it work?"

"Don't know, never tried it before"

"What is it with this town? Everyone seems to want to experiment on me like some sort of human guinea pig between you and Moira I'm surprised I'm not dead."

"Hey I'm not as bad as Moira" The Doc said gruffly, feigning hurt.

"True she wanted be to get advanced radiation sickness, I'd have died, at the very least I could say goodbye to body hair and children. I hadn't found that drunk asleep in the atom bomb's puddle I don't know what I would've done"

"Well you don't have to worry about those side effects with this drug" The Doc replied as he plunged the needle into Jack's arm, then he frowned in thought "Well you don't have to worry about one of them"

"Wait which one…." Jack never finished his question as the drug cocktail took hold and sent him whirling into unconsciousness.

* * *

Jack smiled as he headed back to his Megaton home; he no longer felt like hell, he now felt like crap. Jacked laughed to himself as he reflected on how, after a year of travelling the wasteland, that was a good thing. After been shot, stabbed, beaten, crushed and blown up he had a massive tolerance for pain and he shrugged off minor injuries. It was weird to think that two years ago breaking his leg had been a big deal, now he gritted his teeth shoved a stimpaks in there and carried on fighting. He missed that innocent child he'd been when he growing up and part of him resented that his Dad had taken it away by leaving the vault. With the overseer going crazy there had been no way for him to remain, not that he'd wanted to naively believing that it would be one big adventure like the pre-war movies he'd watched. Jack understood why his Dad had left the vault, hell he had admitted to himself he would have probably done the same. But that understanding couldn't completely erase the resentment.

There were upsides to living in the wasteland. Out here there was adventure, excitement and freedom. If he'd had a choice, Jack admitted to himself, he may well have chosen to leave the vault but he hadn't had a choice. Twice someone else had made the decision for him and Jack had to leave the one place he had ever though of as home, the one place he believed that he could have had a life, married Amata and had kids. When he had been kicked out the vault for the second time Jack had realised that that was never going to happen. Not just the 'marry Amata' part but the whole have kids and marriage thing too.

Jack had too many enemies, people who would love to kill anyone close to him just to cause him pain. The vault had been a place of safety, an impenetrable bunker and the only place a family could have been safe. That was Jack resented his Dad and Amata, they had made a choice that had doomed him to walk alone. He could forgive his Dad as he had done that unintentionally and Jack's own actions had made him the 'Lone Wanderer' but he couldn't bring himself to trust Amata. She had taught him that everyone betrays you eventually, it would just better if Jack was alone.

It took a while for him to make the short walk to his house as every Megaton resident seemed to want to talk to him, disarming the nuke that lay in the center of the town had made him something of a hero to many of the residents and the Wasteland Survival Guide had brought in a lot of business as curious wastelanders came to meet the author's for advice. Looking up he saw Lucas Simms heading towards the Brass Lantern and Jack moved to intercept him calling out as he did so.

"Hey Sheriff"

"Howdy partner" The taciturn Sheriff gave a slight smile as he turned to face Jack.

"Any more trouble from the Outcasts?"

"No, they've left us alone completely their patrols don't even stop here anymore. Good riddance I say, those folks thought they were too good for us"

"Good, good. Listen I think that their might be trouble coming, if I was you I'd form a temporary militia and distribute those laser weapons."

"How bad? Cos we got an awful lot of civilians here not fighters like you and me"

"Bad. Look if you need help send a message via caravan Reilly's Rangers asking to protect the town. Just tell them I asked, they owe me a couple of favours. And prepare for a siege, I have no idea what's going to happen but best to be safe"

"Shit this sounds pretty serious what's happening?"

"That's the worse part" Jack chuckled bitterly "I have no idea, all I know is that you'll probably be seeing more super mutants for a while" The Sheriff swore softly and Jack raised a quizzical eyebrow, the man never swore.

"Hey" the Sheriff retorted "If the news you gave me isn't reason to swear I don't know what is.

* * *

Glade's whistle broke the stunned silence that had enveloped the three Brotherhood soldiers as they stared at Jack's 'collection'. More like a fucking armoury Sarah thought amazedly she could even see _two_ sets of T51b armour, Rothchild would have killed for one. She unconsciously pouted as she remembered Jack's explicit explanation that mercenaries did not wear power armour so they could not wear it. Still, Sarah thought happily, she'd take a suit once all this undercover crap was over and done with. Let Jack try and take her out it then. Sarah blushed a deep shade of red as she realised how that sounded and sent of a prayer of thanks that her two companions were two engrossed in the assortment of weaponry before them to notice her beetroot red face.

Damn him, Sarah though furiously, that Wanderer had the infuriating ability to make her love and hate him at the same time. She cursed silently again and strongly reminded herself that she did not love him. There might have, once, been some affection but no more. She tried to shift her attention to the impressive array of weaponry that the Wanderer had apparently acquired on his travels.

He had quite a few suits of combat armour, evidently there to maintain his usual ranger battle armour but they were still in very good condition and would be suitable for their disguises. Gallows had already grabbed a suit of talon combat armour, evidently the black armour appealed to his special ops nature.

By the time Jack had returned from Doc Church's the three Brotherhood soldiers were all suited up and sifting through the vast array of weapons that Jack kept in his locker. Sarah turned as he entered and directed at a glare at him, scowling when Jack ignored her and went up the stairs towards his room. Her scowl deepened when Glade called up to jack in a friendly tone

"Hey Jack where'd you get all this weapons from?" Sarah hated that Glade called the Wanderer Jack but Glade had refused to stop saying that _Jack _was a person like the rest of them and, after all he had done, deserved to be called by his name.

"Oh you know…around."

"Around?"

"I find them, take them, steal them, get given them." He pointed at the laser rifle Gallows was admiring "Had to buy that Wazer Wifle"

"Why the hell you saying it like that?" Sarah asked confused

"That's what the kid called it"

"But that's a high tech rifle, better than anything we have. How the hell'd a kid get a hold of a weapon like that"

"No idea "

"You didn't ask?"

"A big vault full of super mutants was on my mind" Sarah stopped asking questions after that, the answer a subtle rebuke to her questions. What Jack was really saying was 'I got the GECK for the Brotherhood you owe me'. Sensing that the Wanderer had the support of her squad mates she stopped her interrogation and returned her attention to the armoury. One day, she thought furiously, she'd wipe that smirk of his damn face.

**Sorry if there are any spelling or grammatical errors, am in a hurry so no time for usual proof read but will fix any ASAP.**


	14. Chapter 14

"Alright people this is where our little operation begins" Jack was uncharacteristically serious as he addressed the rest of the group. They were sitting in an abandoned diner west of Canterbury Commons, Jack himself was behind the counter, his rifle in front of him and as he spoke he meticulously cleaned his rifle. Himself and Gallows' had come by a different route to Sarah and Glade as Jack had not wanted any suspicions to be aroused before the operation had even begun.

Sarah and Glade certainly looked the part, Jack thought as he hid a smile, they were dressed in battered leather armour that showed years of wear and crude patches as the previous owners had attempted to fix bullet holes and tears. Their guns were not in much better shape; Jack had not allowed the two to take any of his pristine weapons on the grounds that simple mercenaries would not have the skill or money to pay for such a weapon. Overall the two looked grimy, poor and desperate, in other words just like a mercenary.

Jack inwardly winced as he saw the look that Sarah was giving him, she hadn't been too happy about her disguise when they had set off from Megaton and apparently the long walk had done nothing to soothe that anger. Still he knew how to motivate her again.

"What's the matter Sarah? A bit of dirt and grime too much for the mighty Brotherhood Sentinel?" The intensity of her glare increased and Jack was sure that if he 'motivated' her anymore actual daggers would fly out of her eyes. But he was sure that Sarah would now strive to prove him wrong and so in that sense he was happy although he wished fervently that their relationship had not soured so badly that he had result to mockery to motivate her. Jack thought that Sarah was one of the most driven and skilled warriors that he knew but she shut down every one of Jack's attempts to repair their relationship and took his every comment as an insult.

"Just tell us the plan" Sarah grunted, inwardly fuming at Jack's casual mockery, she'd show him just how tough a Brotherhood sentinel was.

"Well I'll meet with Lucky Harith later this afternoon and convince him that he needs to take on a couple of extra guards. You and Glade will be in the diner and when I and Harith swing by you guys just have to convince him to hire you. Then me and Gallows will shadow you as we hunt down whoever's been buying all these weapons."

"What if he doesn't hire us?" Sarah asked, trying to find a hole in his plan.

"He owes me a favour or two so I could force him to hire you but I'd rather he didn't know. I'm not sure I trust the man completely. Any other questions?"

"Yeah how will Sarah and I know when you and Gallows have identified our mystery buyer?"

"Gallows will leave this baseball glove in your camp. When you see it you'll know that we've found the guy. If that's it then lets move out I want to find out what the hells going on."

* * *

Jack smiled as spotted Lucky Harith leaning against a tree on the outskirts of the town. He headed straight for him not wanting to give the man any time to get a good look at him.

"Well if it isn't Lucky Harith, how are you doing?" Jack smiled as he draped his arm over the old merchants shoulder and pulled him in close.

"Who the hell…" Jack was not wearing his usual gear which he had left in Gallows' care back at the old diner but instead he donned leather armour and an old pre war hat pulled low over his face. Jack was keen that no one but he and Harith would know that the Lone Wanderer had been to Canterbury Commons. Some one had worked very hard to hide whatever they had planned and Jack was sure that they'd be watching their tracks very carefully.

"I'm hurt don't you recognise that man invested all those caps in you"

"Wand…."

"Ah! As you can see I'm trying to lay low so let's not have any names. Just call off your guard dog over there" Jack smiled as he gestured towards Lucky Harith's guard who was moving towards them.

"It's fine" Harith called out "just an…an old friend"

"Cheers Harith" he released the weapons dealer from his grip and smiled "lets head over to the bar and have a drink. It's been a while since we chatted and I'm always anxious for news"

"Yeah sure, as long as you're buying" Harith cackled. Jack smiled dutifully at the jest and headed towards the bar, pulling the brim of hat lower so as to avoid been recognised. They exchanged news as they walked and Jack waited patiently as Harith explained to him why a good assault rifle would always be better than a _fancy laser rifle_. When Harith finally brought up the subject of Super Mutants Jack pounced on it.

"Their numbers have been rising apparently. I know for a fact that the Brotherhood are falling back in order to cope" Harith looked shocked at this news

"Really I haven't had any trouble with them"

"Been lucky I guess, still if I was you I'd be thinking about hiring. Super mutants are always looking for easy targets after all"

"Maybe you're right" Harith mused as the two headed towards the diner. Looking ahead Jack could see Sarah and Glade just stepping into the diner.

* * *

Sarah looked around as she and Glade stepped into Dot's Diner, Glade made a beeline for the owner to order the two of the drinks while Sarah gazed at the other patrons with a veteran's eye. Most of the people were no threat however one did catch her eye as a possible threat. The girl in question sat in the corner nursing a shot of vodka, occasionally brushing her ragged short brown hair out of her eyes. The faded leather armour and 9mm pistol marked her out as some sort of merc or lawman. Still Sarah snorted to herself she was just like every other civilian in the wasteland, cocky but when it came to a proper fight they just got themselves killed.

Relaxing slightly she joined Glade at the counter and took a gulp from the offered bottle of whiskey and sighed. She had needed that she thought tiredly the last couple of weeks had been _very _stressful with the whole Arthur thing and then the Wanderer. Fuck it had been a hard couple of weeks, when she sorted this out she was going to take some much needed R and R.

"Yeah I so did meet the fucking wanderer" At the mention of _his_ name Sarah jolted round looking for who had mentioned him.

"Yeah sure why hell would the goddamn Wanderer want to meet you"

"Hey me and him had a real good _chat _after he saved this town from those costumed freaks. If you know what I mean." Sarah located speaker, the bitch in the corner who thinks she's a badass Sarah thought sourly as she listened to the conversation the girl was having with an old trader.

"He's the mother fucking Wanderer; he could do a lot better than you"

"The wanderer certainly didn't feel that way" The girl said with a coy smile. Sarah growled and squeezed the bottle of whiskey hard as she took another drink. "I mean I look a hell of lot better than most of the other bitches in the wasteland, like that hag"

Sarah looked up to find the girl pointing squarely at her, that did it she thought furiously as she swung off the bar stool, shrugging of Glade as he attempted to stop her.

"What did you say" Sarah asked, her teeth gritted as she stared at the wannabe-bitch who had also stood up.

"I was just telling my friend that a hag like you could never get the Wanderer, unlike me, a…" Sarah didn't wait to find out what she was as she swung a fist at stupid girls mouth knocking her backwards onto one of the diner's tables.

"You messed with the wrong girl. No one fucks with Machete" The girl spat as she wiped the blood that was trickling from the corner of her mouth. Sarah just laughed, _Machete_, that was the typical of a bloody wastelander, give themselves a tough sounding name and they think they're in-fuckin-vincible.

Sarah dodged to the side as the girl threw a vicious left hook which managed to clip the side of her head. Shaking her head to clear the cobwebs Sarah conceded that _Machete_ had decent punch. She couldn't help but grin as she reflected that after all that time with the Wanderer she _really _wanted to beat the crap out of somebody. She closed in with a brutal sequence of punches, kicks and head butts which resulted in Machete lying on her back on the floor groaning with blood flowing from her nose.

"I could have the fucking wanderer anytime I wanted bitch"

"Oh really?" Sarah froze as she heard the familiar voice and as she slowly turned to face the door she prayed fervently to every god she'd ever heard of that the voice didn't belong to who she thought it belonged to.

**I know it's short but it seemed a good place to end the chapter**


	15. Chapter 15

Jack couldn't but smile as he stared at Sarah, who returned his gaze with a mortified look upon her face, a slow red blush was colouring her cheeks as she stared at him. Glancing to his left he could see Harith smirking while the rest of the dinner looked at Sarah wondering why the fiery blonde had stop speaking so suddenly. Only Jack, Harith and Sarah knew the answer to that question. Well Glade knew as well but he was trying very hard to melt into his seat, he been playing peacemaker between the two of them but clearly he wanted no part of this particular argument.

The sensible part of Jack's brain was telling him not to, under any circumstances; say anything remotely cocky or sarcastic. If he did Jack was pretty certain that Sarah would make him suffer. With considerable effort Jack kept his mouth shut but he could not help grinning as he winked at Sarah. It was fun to watch her internal struggle, clearly she really wanted to hit and scream at him but that would involve blowing her cover, letting down the Brotherhood and that was something that Sarah would never do.

"So tell me" Jack asked struggling to smother the laugh that was threatening to burst out of him "What would you do once you _had_ the Wanderer?" As Sarah's face slowly turned redder as she suppressed the rage that was building up as Jack taunted her. I am so going to pay for this, Jack thought as he nodded to Harith and stepped out of the diner but it was so goddamn worth it.

Does she actually want me? The thought raced through Jack's mind before he could stop it and suddenly that was the only thought in his head. She sounded like she did but then again she seems to hate my guts.

"Fuck" Jack swore to himself, he did not want any possible feelings that he may or may not have to interfere with his operation. The last time those feelings had arose he had ended up getting the crap beaten out of him by a Brotherhood knight with obvious anger management issues. Sarah hating him had helped Jack to keep those feelings in check, believing that she did return his affections had given him a reason to move on.

But now, now there's a chance that she does like you. No, Jack told himself firmly, there are no feelings, even if there were the Wasteland come first, it has too, in the grand scheme of things my personal feelings are of no consequence.

Jack let out a heavy sigh as he attempted to bury the feelings that Sarah had awoken, it was just to painful for him to love someone, he always failed them, he always lost them and Jack was tired of losing those that were closest to him. It was better for everyone if he was alone.

* * *

Sarah felt her nails digging into the palm of her hand as she clenched her fists tightly, it took all her self control not smash her fist into _his _smirking face, she'd almost lost it when he'd winked at her, arrogant bastard. She glared at the Wanderer as he made his exit although he couldn't help but taunt her as he left.

What a piece of shit, Sarah thought furiously, he always has to tease someone, never takes anything seriously. He is never going to let me live this down; she kicked the prone form of Machete who Sarah blamed for what had happened. Well that and the whiskey she had drunk, it was not because she had said that Sarah could never have the Wanderer. No, Sarah reassured herself it was because of the whiskey and the arrogant bitch. The Wanderer's only contribution was that he had been pissing her off since she rescued him from the Brotherhood.

"Excuse me, may I have a word?" Sarah looked up from the unconscious Machete to see the man who had entered with the Wanderer, the man who Sarah presumed to be the merchant she had to persuade to hire her.

"You can" Sarah said tersely, wincing slightly as the action caused a stab of pain, that girl had had a decent punch…for a scrawny, arrogant bitch.

"You seem to be able to handle yourself in a fight" The merchant chuckled as he spoke "I know Machete and she can handle herself in a fight." Sarah snorted derisively at that but that did not deter the merchant. "Would you be interested in some work guarding caravans?" Sarah pretended to consider the offer before nodding towards Glade.

"You take me, you take my friend. He's good in a fight, I trust him to watch my back" The merchant studied Glade for a few seconds before nodding his agreement to the term. It had been unlikely that he would have refused, Glade was a veteran of a hundred skirmishes and his experience was obvious from the way he held himself. Sarah waved him over and waited impatiently as he paid for his drink and negotiated the mess that had been left from Sarah's brawl.

"Yeah?" Glade asked nonchalantly when he arrived. Sarah bit back a comment on proper modes of address, reminding herself that for now she was not a Sentinel of the Brotherhood of Steel but just a mercenary and while she was in disguise Glade was not her subordinate.

"Uh...what's his name…"

"Harith" Harith supplied helpfully

"Yeah, Harith wants to hire us to protect his caravan"

"What you sell? How much do we get paid? How long for?" Glade rattled off the questions and Sarah berated herself for not asking the questions herself. What kind of mercenary doesn't ask about the money?

"100 caps a week with food and water supplied. You can terminate the contract at any major settlement…so long as I can find replacements there. As for what I sell, I supply the finest weaponry to the great people of the wasteland, lethal instruments of death…"

"Deal" Sarah interrupted before the merchant could continue his speech.

"Good, can you start immediately, I want to reach Big Town soon, maybe they'll buy some weapons before they all get killed off by mutants or raiders"

Across the street Jack watched as Harith left Dot's diner in the company of Sarah and Glade before he doubled back to where Gallows was waiting. The plan had not gone completely as expected but the important thing was that Sarah and Glade were in Harith's employ. While Jack was confident that he and Gallows would be able to get any answers, they needed as they shadowed the Caravan it never hurt to have someone on the inside, they might pick up some useful information. At the very least they would be of more use there than trying to shadow the caravan. Sarah and Glade had many strengths but stealth just wasn't one of them.


	16. Chapter 16

**Hi guys, so in sorry about the erratic nature of my updates in the past couple of weeks as I'm sure it's been slightly annoying for you and I'd just like to say thanks for sticking with me so far. While I'm saying thanks, thank you for following or reviewing and I am reading and taking into your feedback.**

**Anyway I will now be posting at least one chapter every week (post on Friday) and my chapter length will definitely increase to a more respectable level. It's been a busy few weeks and so I have posted what I can to show you lot that I'm still writing this thing and am not planning to stop until it's finished (nothing more annoying than a half finished story).**

* * *

The super mutant tried to roar but all that came out of its throat was a grotesque gurgle as it's throat was ripped apart by a burst of bullets. Looking to his left Jack saw Gallows patting the infiltrator assault rifle with, what some might have called a smile, upon his face.

"Enjoying yourself Gallows?" Jack smiled as Gallows grunted in reply, the guy reminded him of his old buddy Charon, deadly but always quiet. He had missed that quiet companionship, the days spent in one sided conversation or just the comfortable silences at the end of a long day. Charon's death during the assault on Project Purity had hit him hard, he hid his grief of course, Jack had to keep up the façade of the untouchable Lone Wanderer but that didn't mean he was as emotionless ass he pretended to be. This isn't the time to get all nostalgic, not when we are in danger, Jack told himself angrily, annoyed at the lapse in his concentration.

Taking a calming breath Jack scanned his surroundings for any other threats, seeing none he walked up to the two dead super mutants and began to search their bodies. Gallows moved up alongside him and silently stood watch as Jack placed the ammo and weapons in a pile. His search gave him a dozen .32 rounds and two dirty rifles that looked like they'd break the next time they were fired. Jack dropped the rounds into his ammo pouch and placed the rifles in his pack which then swung onto his back.

"Let's move Gallows, you take point." Nodding in response Gallows set off at a jog westwards moving parallel to the caravan's trail. A little surprised at Gallows pace Jack stumbled as he ran to catch up with Gallows who, in his black combat armour, was a little hard to make out in the failing light. Gallows seemed to have inhuman stamina, Jack thought as he followed Gallows' path through the wasteland. Jack was used to regularly traversing the wasteland and kept himself in good shape but Gallows' never seemed to tire. Jack was just glad that he'd emptied his pack of all but essential supplies otherwise he wasn't completely sure he would have been able to match Gallows' relentless pace.

After an hour they Gallows' slowed and made his way into the ruins of an abandoned house, Jack followed him into the house and slumped onto one of the more comfortable looking piles of rubble with a sigh of relief. He gazed further into town where a thin column of smoke gave away the location of Sarah's camp and he frowned, annoyed that Sarah had allowed her companions to have a fire; they might as well have yelled their position to the whole wasteland. Still he consoled himself with the thought that either he or Gallows would be watching over them. Jack groaned as he shrugged of his pack and stretched his arms.

"I'll take first watch, relieve me at two and remember to give the signal to Sarah or Glade." Gallows nodded to signify he had heard. Jack climbed back unto his feet picking up his rifle from where it lay on the ground, smiling at the taciturn soldier's determination to use as few words as possible. He constantly reminded Jack of Charon, a fact which both caused pain and a nostalgic sense of joy in equal measure.

Jack headed for an old home that was more intact than the others that dotted the landscape, this one happened to still have parts of the second floor. From the second floor of this old house Jack could see into the caravan's camp which sat in an old playground among the rusting structures of swings and see-saws. An old chain link fence, roughly the height of a man surrounded the playground and amazingly it was still in good shape. A guard stood on the entrance to the playground beside his own small fire, obviously the man was more concerned with staying warm than safety. A big campfire illuminated a brahmin and three humans who sat close to the fire. Jack stared intently at these three figures trying to identify which of the three was Sarah.

One of the figures tossed another log on to the fire and this caused the fire to flare and Jack saw Sarah's face appear in the firelight before it fell away. She sat on her own staring into the fire, obviously deep in thought. Jack smiled, that girl spent way too much of her time thinking, always with that serious look, he loved that look.

He couldn't help but let his mind flick back to the incident three days ago at Dot's Diner when, from what he had gathered, Sarah had beat the shit out of Machete because the girl had claimed to have fucked him. Jack's smile grew wider he couldn't help but find the idea of Sarah being jealous so goddamn hot. Although his smile died as he realised that Sarah might be beating up a lot of women, the fame had kind of gone to his head when everyone had started calling him the Lone Wanderer. His dad's death had brought him back down to earth again but before that had happened he had 'been intimate', to put it politely, with a number of women across the wasteland.

Jack snorted as he realised he was worrying about what would happen if he and Sarah were a couple when the woman in question seemed to veer between loving and hating him. He had just had to put those feelings, those hopes and those fears into a box and bury them in his mind. He had a job to do and he couldn't let his personal problems interfere or the whole wasteland could pay the price.

Jack left his rifle where it stood, leaning against the remnants of a wall, and drew his .44 revolver from its holster. He'd make sure that the fence was unbroken, leave a few 'surprises' if he did find a hole; then all he had to do was sit up in the old house and shoot anyone who tried to attack through the entrance. He jumped down, rolling as he hit the ground, the recent rainfall had soften the ground when he got back onto his feet he was covered in mud. He then gave his revolver a thin coating of mud, taking care not to jam any mechanisms, the mud would stop the metal reflecting any light and his roll in the mud had camouflaged him. Feeling prepared Jack began heading towards the fence.

Jack just had a feeling, a niggle, telling him that something was going to happen and, in his time wandering the wastes Jack had learned to trust that feeling. When it was Sarah's life at stake jack wasn't taking any chances. 'The Feeling' had started as he stared at the sentry's fire contemplating whether he should bother to check the perimeter or just stay up in the more comfortable dry house. After all, he had told himself, they were unlikely to have a surprise attack launched against them. Someone was stopping the raiders from attacking caravans and the only threat was super mutants who were as likely to launch as successful surprise attack as Moriarty was likely to give Gob an all expenses paid vacation.

So just as Jack had convinced himself that all he needed to do was sit up in the ruined house till Gallows relieved him 'The Feeling' hit him, and because Jack had learned to trust this feeling he was crawling in the cold mud, checking that the fence was intact, because that feeling always meant trouble. Well, Jack conceded, it _always_ meant trouble if you had a very wide interpretation of the word 'trouble' but he couldn't ignore it, because he knew that he'd never forgive himself if something happened, if Sarah got hurt, because he ignored 'The Feeling'.


	17. Chapter 17

Sarah stared into the flickering flames of the campfire as she tried to escape the bitter cold of the December night, shivering she drew her knees to her chest and hugged them as she inched slightly closer to the fire. She heard Glade laughing at one of Harith's jokes but she did not feel like joining the two of them, she couldn't stop replaying that moment in Dot's Diner over and over again. She felt herself blush as she recalled the incident, it had been three days but she still couldn't help it.

She hadn't hit that stupid bitch because she was jealous, Sarah told herself firmly after all just because the Wanderer had a cute smile and deep blue eyes and…

"No"

"No?" Sarah looked up from the fire to see a curious Glade staring at her from across the fire. Shit she hadn't spoken out loud had she? Shit. She'd just been so angry with herself whatever the Wanderer's physical appearance it didn't change the fact that the bastard didn't care about her or any of his so called 'friends'. He just used people, she told herself, whether it was power, money or sex.

There was no point in telling Glade about any of this, she'd already tried once but he'd actually laughed at her and told her not be so silly. He'd admitted that the kid had some major trust issues but he had resolutely refused to believe that the Wanderer just used people. Well she knew better, she'd thought the same as Glade once before the Wanderer abandoned her and the Brotherhood once he'd came back from the Pitt. She'd thought he had his reasons but now she knew that their usefulness had ran out and that had been confirmed to her back in Grayditch, when he'd basically accused her of bringing him back to be tortured.

If he had ever been her friend then he would've known that she hated torture, that she never agreed with it but clearly the man she cared for had never existed, it was just a mask the Wanderer had put on to gain her trust, a very convincing mask but she told herself, it had been a mask. A guy like him would have never fallen for a girl like her no he liked them soft and pretty, like Amata but Sarah was hard and lean, she had never thought of herself as pretty. Hell she hadn't even given a damn about being _pretty_, at least not until the Wanderer had come crashing into her life.

Glade coughed and Sarah realised that she had yet to answer his question and decided to answer his query with a half truth

"I asked myself whether I should go easy on the Wanderer when we see him again and my answer was 'No'" Sarah smiled wolfishly, she was looking forward to paying the Wanderer back for his smirk and his little 'what would you do if you _had_ the Wanderer?' comment. Glade winced at the look in Sarah's eye and sent off a fervent thank you that he wasn't the Wanderer.

Excusing herself Sarah stood up and began to head towards the watchman's fire, figuring that if she was alone then it wouldn't matter if she occasionally blurted out a thought or two. She had been wearing her dirty leather armour for more than a week now but after years of virtually living in power armour she felt almost naked in her _new_ armour. Her Lyon's Pride power armour could stop a 5.56 bullet dead in its tracks from 200 yards, Sarah doubted the leather rags she was wearing could stop a knife thrust from an old man.

She felt this vulnerability most keenly when she was around the third caravan guard, Dez. She had immediately disliked the man who had a sallow, thin face that was disfigured by a knife slash that cut an ugly streak from the corner of his left eye to the right corner of his mouth. His tanned complexion only made the whiteness of the scar tissue more apparent. Lank, greasy black hair sat on top of his head with no attempt made to style it. But, in Sarah's opinion, his worst feature was his malevolent grey eyes that had leered at her from the moment he had seen her.

Needless to say Sarah liked to spend as little time as possible in the company of the repulsive Dez. It wasn't that she was scared of the man, Sarah was a soldier and in her time she had beaten down many such pathetic excuses of a man but without her power armour she didn't completely feel like Sentinel Lyons, professional badass. Without it she was just Sarah, a damn good fighter to be sure but she missed that feeling of invulnerability that had come with putting on the power armour.

Steeling herself for what would undoubtedly be an unpleasant conversation Sarah stepped into the light from the fire and coughed loudly to gain Dez's attention.

"I'm relieving you" She said curtly, fervently hoping that Dez would get the message and piss off.

"Alright sweetheart, sure yer don't want me to stay for some…_company?_" Dez grinned; distorting the scar on his face as his eyes unashamedly stared at her body which was not well hidden by the tight fitting leather armour

"I'm sure"

"Come on, let me show yer how a real man treats a lady like yerself" Dez still smiled but the words had a distinctly menacing undertone. Sarah reached behind her back to grip the handle of her combat knife. She noticed the empty bottle of vodka that lay by Dez's chair and she felt a new wave of disgust for the lecherous, ill disciplined mercenary wash over her and at the same time any trace of fear for the man left her body. He was, she told herself, a pitiable excuse for a soldier and for a man. If she had caught any of the Brotherhood drinking while on watch she would not have hesitated to beat them to the ground. Abandoning any attempt at cordiality Sarah spat on the ground and growled at Dez

"Fuck off. Now." Dez's ugly face twisted into an expression of rage but it was only visible for less than a second before he gained control of his emotions and forced out a fake laugh.

" Ha ha I like a girl with spirit missy" With that comment he turned and stepped into the darkness, heading for the campfires where Harith and Glade sat, apparently still deep in a discussion about the merits of the minigun versus an assault rifle. Sarah relaxed her grip on the knife as she watched him leave, allowing her contempt for the man to show on her face. Power armour or no power armour she was not going to put up with good for nothing shit like Dez.

* * *

A few metres away hidden in the darkness Jack lowered the barrel of his .44 magnum and quietly let out a relieved sigh. He had known that Sarah would be able to resolve the situation himself but something about that man just made him uneasy. Jack had been unsettled enough that he had been prepared to blow the guy's brains if he tried anything to Sarah, to hell with keeping his cover. He was relieved that he hadn't needed to interfere however, not least because Sarah would have half killed him for protecting when she didn't need protecting. If there was one thing Sarah hated more than anything else in the world it was being treated like a damsel in distress.

Still, Jack thought as he crept back towards the abandoned house where he had left his rifle, he would have to ask Gallows to help him keep an extra close eye on this Dez. Jack had met bastards like him many times before; generally he had ended up killing them because men like that were usually little better than raiders. He typed a reminder to ask Smiley Jack about 'Dez' the next time he saw him; it was inevitable that a man like that would have contacts in the raiders.

Still you have to prioritise Jack, he reminded himself sternly, the Wasteland comes first, it has to and the Wasteland needs you to figure out what the hell is going with the super mutants. As he came closer to the abandoned house where he had made his sniper's nest Jack saw the outline of Gallows, who was staring through his scope into the wilderness that surrounded the encampment. His sniper rifle was resting on an old chair.

Jack saw the flash of light as Gallows pulled the trigger, the bang muffled by a suppressor that Gallows had screwed onto the end of his sniper rifle. He sprinted towards the house realising that Gallows wouldn't have fired and risk compromising their position unless it was something very fucking serious.

**Thank you for the follows and reviews guys, much appreciated.**


	18. Chapter 18

**Hi people, managed to finish this chapter early and I decided to post it earlier than the Friday deadline I set myself, next chapter will be up by next friday at the ****latest.**

**Thank you for the reviews and I hope you enjoy this chapter**

"What the hell were you firing at?" Jack gasped as he reached the second floor of the house and saw Gallows still staring through the scope of his sniper rifle. He did not question the man's decision to shoot as he knew that an experienced special ops soldier like Gallows would not have risked compromising both his own and his squad mates cover without a damn good reason.

"Man dressed as a Radscorpion" Gallows replied without a hint of shock or humour at the extraordinary statement. Maybe I was wrong, Jack thought sadly to himself, maybe Gallows has finally lost it. Still Jack was about to tell a crazy special ops soldier that he was _crazy as hell_, no that might turn him into a crazy, homicidal special ops soldier and no one wanted that.

Humouring the possibly mad Gallows Jack grabbed his rifle and snapped its attachable scope on top following Gallows' instructions to find this 'Radman'. Gallows hadn't actually called him that but Jack figured that Gallows name, 'Man dressed as a Radscorpion' was way too much of a mouthful to say quickly and besides Jack's was a lot more catchier than Gallows. As he moved his scope through an area of dead land about 300 yards from the north end of the fence something black flashed across the sight. As it disappeared from his scope he heard the muffled crack from Gallow's suppressed sniper rifle and a pleased grunt from the man himself.

As he moved his scope back to the right Jack's jaw literally dropped in surprise as his scope revealed a man lying dead on the ground in widening pool of blood that spilled from the man's cheek. At first glance the man appeared to be black but upon closer examination Jack realised that in fact the man had smeared his skin with mud, apparently in an effort to camouflage himself, Jack bit back a sarcastic comment realizing that he was also covered in mud. His clothes however were by far the weirdest part of the whole spectacle; the man was wearing skin of a Radscorpion, using it as a kind of armour that covered the man's entire body. Jack knew from personal experience that a Radscorpion's armour was pretty damn thick and so, with the suppressor taking some of the force from Gallows' sniper rifle, they had been lucky that Radman's helmet had had no faceplate or they might have managed to take him out so stealthily.

Radman's barbaric look only added to Jack's worry that there might be more of them about, he had dealt with tribals before but these looked to be together than your everyday tribal. It would've been hard to kill the giant Radscorpion needed for that armour and some damn good tailoring to turn it into a suit of armour. He doubted that these people were behind the super mutant problem however; that was someone who had been around for a while, someone who knew the Capital Wasteland and who you needed to threaten, bribe or flatter in order to get things done.

Knowing my luck, Jack thought miserably, this is all one big coincidence. Still might as well take the chance to investigate these Radmans before they get any closer to Sarah's camp. If there was a sizeable number Jack would have to lead them away or the caravan could suffer serious casualties. But he was the Lone Wanderer, there would have to be a whole fucking lot of them if they wanted to be too much for him to handle.

Tapping Gallows on the shoulder in order to make the man tear his attention away from the scope Jack proceeded to outline his plan, Gallows only response was to nod occasionally though whether that was in agreement or just to show he was still listening was unclear.

"…so if I'm not back by morning then proceed with the mission without me. Remember the final objective is to find out whose paying the mercs not to kill super mutants, at the moment the weapon shipments are my only lead but if you find a better one don't be afraid to follow it. I'll try to meet you at Megaton as arranged if we get separated; if I'm not there then I'm probably dead." At the end of that statement Gallows just stared at him, before he stood up and snapped into a salute. Jack returned the salute ending his with a slight wave as he grinned cheekily back at Gallows before he turned and headed for the stairs he stopped at the top as a thought occurred to him and without turning he spoke in deadly, quiet voice that had none of his usual good humour in it.

"I've seen how the Brotherhood does things Gallows and I think it's a load of shit. It's just like that 'greater good' crap you hear people spouting off. It's just an excuse they use to excuse the atrocities that they have committed to soothe their own consciences so that they can tell themselves that they didn't have a choice. There's always a choice, doesn't mean it's always an easy one but it's always there. Basically what I'm saying is that if you're working with me you do things my way. If I hear about sacrificing anyone for any bullshit greater good, code or orders then I swear we will no longer be friends."

Jack left in silence after his speech heading towards the Radman's encampment, he liked Gallows hell the man was one of the few people he respected but he also feared that the man truly would follow any orders. A man like that was dangerous and when a man like that worker for an organisation like the Brotherhood of Steel Jack knew that Gallows could end up carrying out some pretty brutal orders.

At the moment the Brotherhood was fine, they were trying to defend the wasteland but that was only because of Elder Lyons and when the old man died the Brotherhood could well end up returning to its original purpose. Jack believed that was a real possibility, he knew that many in the Brotherhood had only refrained from joining the Outcast out of the loyalty to Lyons and they might reconsider their decision if he was no longer in charge.

And if, after they returned to their original values, the Outcasts were to rejoin their former comrades with their 'technology at any cost' attitude then they could be a serious threat to the wastelanders who were just trying to eke out a living in the DC area. That was one of the reasons Jack had left, after the Pitt he had realised the lengths the Brotherhood were willing to go and what shocked him more was that they were proud of those achievements. Jack knew that he could never just stand by and let them do something like that and so he left, distancing himself and getting ready for the day when he would have to fight the Brotherhood to protect innocent lives.

The other reason was Elder Lyons himself, what he done in the Pitt was a fucking war crime and just because he had realised his mistake and started to protect people it didn't mean he should be forgiven. Thousands of people died so he could realise his mistake and turning over a new leaf didn't excuse from that.

Jack tore himself from his thoughts as he began to hear a low murmur as conversations from the Radmans' camp started to reach him. From the sound of it there were a fair number of them just beyond a small rise ahead of him. Grateful that he had already camouflaged himself, Jack began to inch up the hill on his belly, holding his rifle firmly in his hands as he made his way up the hill.

Jack had been expected a raiding party, he had encountered many such groups before and they were never a serious problem. They were often scared off by a show a force and on the occasions that they had actually mustered the courage to attack a death and a couple of injuries were enough to send them running. As expected when he reached the top of the rise he could see a dozen men garbed in the same gruesome armour as the man that Gallows had shot.

He shifted around slightly to get into a more comfortable firing position, he then quickly unattached the scope as the men, 200 yards, were to close to engage effectively with a scope. Once the scope was unattached and dropped into one of his armour's many pockets, Jack brought the rifle's barrel up to his shoulder and set the head of the closest man in the sights of his gun. Placing his finger on the trigger, Jack began to control his breathing which had become heavier after the jog through the uneven, muddy terrain. Just as he was about to pull the trigger Jack swore and jerked the barrel upwards as he withdrew his right hand from where it was resting gently on the trigger.

This was exactly what the Brotherhood would do, shoot first and ask questions later. No way in hell was Jack going to am leaf out of their book. These were obviously not your run of the mill tribal raiders that Jack was used to seeing on the outskirts of the Capital Wasteland, so who the hell were they and what did they want?

A grin crept onto Jack's face as a way to get those answers popped into his head, it was something that a Brotherhood Knight would have never thought of in a million years, it was daring, it was crazy and it was, Jack thought smugly, what he did best. Slinging his rifle onto his back once more Jack took a breath before standing up and waving his arms at the congregation of men.

"Alright lads, what you up too then?"

* * *

Sarah hand edged closer to the trigger guard on the old assault rifle she held at her waste, she attempted to look relaxed and at ease as her eyes constantly scanned her surroundings, though she did not have a clue what type of enemy was lurking in the dark.

"I fucking hate this" She swore to herself as she jumped at a nearby bush which had appeared to rustling ominously before a squirrel streaked out from it. She was, she admitted to herself, slightly on edge. This wasn't the sort of combat that she was used to, usually she'd be able to trust the men at her back and, as the commanding officer, have a good idea of the situation or at the very least a fucking clue as to what was going on.

The only reason she knew something was going on were two separate flashes of light which betrayed a sniper using a silenced scope from an elevated position. Since the shots had not been directed at the camp site and she had deduced that either Gallows or J..the Lone Wanderer had fired at something. Both were highly accurate marksman and therefore two shots meant at least two enemies. The Wanderer had been adamant about not breaking cover so it must have been pretty serious for either of their 'guardian angels', as Glade jokingly referred to them, to risk breaking their cover. So now Sarah was alert and uneasy as her imagination dreamed up all kinds of ideas about what was out their in the darkness.

But Sarah had a job to do and goddammit but Sarah Lyons always did her duty, hell she went above and beyond the call of duty most of the time, Sarah was a firm believer in leading by example and that coupled with a determination to overcome to prejudices, admittedly subtle but still there, that many of the male elders and knights had against female soldiers had meant that Sentinel Lyons bravery and fierceness was a legend among the DC Brotherhood.

So she stood calmly in the darkness, praying fervently that Gallows would be the one to relieve her so she could inform him of the situation. If it was Harith then Sarah would keep quiet, the mission always cam first in her book, doubly so when the mission in question was one that would save the Brotherhood, the people she had laughed with, fought with and grew up with. Sarah was willing to sacrifice anything to stop them being wiped out by Uglies, anything.


	19. Chapter 19

His right cheek was buried in a muddy patch of the ground, his head was throbbing painfully and dried blood had sealed his left eye shut. Jack had no idea where his weapons were and even less of an idea where he was. Needless to say, Jack thought wryly, the plan seemed to be going pretty damn well.

* * *

Sarah stifled a yawn as she marched in her position to the right of the pack brahmin, Glade had the rear and Dez, as the most experienced guard, had point for which Sarah was eternally grateful as it meant that she did not have to talk to him while she marched. After staying up with Glade all night to guard the perimeter Sarah did not have the energy needed to ignore the repulsive mercenary.

There had been no trouble in the end and Sarah now regretted her insistence that she would stay up with Glade, despite the veteran knight's pleas that Sarah needed to get some rest before she burned herself out. She had just given Glade one of her cool stairs and any further protest had died in his throat.

Still, she reflected as she kept in step with the Brahmin, she would have never forgiven herself if something had happened to Glade without her, she didn't need another death on her conscience. Of course not having to endure Dez's company by the camp fire had just been a very convenient bonus. But it had meant that she had had little to no sleep in the past 36 hours and the signs of sleep deprivation were starting to show as the caravan squelched along muddy tracks. Luckily Sarah wasn't on point so she could just focus on putting one foot in front of the other occasionally glancing up to see how close the sun was to setting for that was when they would set up camp for the night.

Sarah couldn't help but smile despite her leaden limbs and heavy eyelids that felt as if a super mutant was hanging off them. At least she was back doing something that resembled soldiering, she had never thought that she would miss that exhaustion after a long march but she did. Sarah was a honest soldier, not some sneaky spook like the Wanderer, and she had hated the cloak and dagger shit that she had to do both when she was with the Wanderer and right now with this undercover crap.

Marching on the other hand that was a time honoured soldiering tradition and it felt good to sink into her bed roll at night, her legs aching, because she felt she had done an honest days work. Sometimes she'd wake in the morning and forget where she was, the familiar aching making her think for a one glorious moment that she was back with the Brotherhood. But then she'd see Dez's ugly face and the moment would be shattered.

She cursed at the Wanderer then, after all this was all his damn fault, the Brotherhood had been doing fine without the goddamn Wanderer, they had been protecting the ungrateful wasters long before he had come along. Sarah only had hazy memories of the Pitt, she had only been six at the time, but she knew that whatever the Brotherhood had done they had done because it had needed to be done. What they did was in the best interests of everyone, the average local couldn't be trusted with a laser rifle and after all wasn't it better that the Brotherhood discovered their secrets.

But no the Wanderer had to have a goddamn fucking problem with the Brotherhood, who had rescues his sorry ass on more than one occasion, and he had turned his back on them, on her. At first most of the Brotherhood hadn't particularly cared, he was just one man they had told themselves. Even Sarah had convinced herself that he would come crawling back desperate for their help.

He hadn't. Instead the Wanderer had thrived as he routed the raiders, slaughtered the slavers hell he had even drove the Deathclaws out of the Old Olney sewer system giving birth to a new Ghoul settlement protected by the roaming Deathclaws. He had further rubbed it in the Brotherhoods face by using their own tech against them to allow the ghouls to harness the ferocious Deathclaws as the settlement's protectors. Both the Wanderer and the Capital Wasteland flourished.

The Brotherhood on the other hand, their fortunes had declined since Jack had cut ties and left them. The Wastelanders were not overly fond of the Brotherhood and resented them for hoarding their technology and not sharing it. This distrust had only increased when the Wanderer left, after all if the saviour of the wasteland didn't trust them why should they. Her father had instigated a 'hearts and minds' campaign but they were never able to measure up to _him_, everyone decent citizen seemed to owe their live, loved ones or livelihoods to the man.

They had had to focus on the super mutant threat but they had slowly been pushed back week by week, block by block and as knights died fighting off the brutal monsters there were fewer initiates to take their place. The surge of recruits that had come with the Wanderer's capture of Project Purity had receded in the wake of his leaving.

So the fucking Wanderer had decided he was better than the Brotherhood and without him the Brotherhood was dying a slow death as they lost precious men and territory every day. Sarah spat angrily, out of some high mighty moral righteousness the Wanderer had signed every Brotherhood knight's death warrant and Sarah just couldn't understand why. They all wanted the same thing after all, peace and safety across the Capital Wasteland.

* * *

This is it, excitement rushed through Sarah as she realised that this was the mystery contact that they had been looking. He was not what you would have expected a man who bought large weapon shipments under shady circumstances to look like. He was in his fifties, which by wasteland standards was positively ancient, with a bald head and thin wire spectacles sitting primly upon his nose. He was tall, around 6ft, and impossibly thin his limbs looked fragile and stick like. His extreme thinness made his head look large by comparison and the thick lens of his spectacles magnified the size of his muddy brown eyes. Somehow he had managed to maintain a pasty white complexion, somehow shielding his skin from the brutal wasteland sun. A massive brown trench coat covered his body hiding his attire though Sarah thought she had caught a glimpse of pristine black shoes when he had walked towards them.

No he was not what Sarah had expected when Harith had brusquely informed them about a 'quick visit to the scrap yard. His attitude had warned her that this was no ordinary business deal as he become less cheerful and good humoured with every step after they had left Arefu. And now as she stared at this oddball she knew, with a soldier's instinct, that this was their mystery arms buyer. The heavily laden Brahmin Harith had brought with him only reinforced this instinct.

"This is my usual shipment I assume?" The man spoke quietly in a measured, careful tone, his voice a sibilant hiss.

"Yes, your usual shipment of…" Harith was interrupted by a gentle tut from the man before he could launch into the rest of his sales speech.

"Remember my enthusiastic friend that my employer and I would prefer that what we buy is not named. One finds that some people would believe we had…say we say sinister intentions if they knew what we were buying from you"

"Of course, I understand completely" From the confused look on Harith's face Sarah was willing o bet that Harith had no idea what the man was going on about. The man's feelings, however, were far more difficult to read as he seemed to permanently wear a supercilious smile that never reached his eyes, what lay beyond this cold mask was anyone's guess.

"Excellent, if you could leave the shipment in that quaint little shed over there before you leave that would be excellent."

"Of course if there is…" Sarah stopped listening to the conversation as her fingers desperately fumbled for the bright scrap of cloth that she had kept in a zipped up pocket, safe and sound for when she would need to signal to Gallows and the Wanderer that she had identified the target. As the man was the only stranger present she did not have to go through any additional antics but only lightly drop the bright red cloth onto the floor. Gallows, who would be overseeing the proceedings through his scope would see the cloth, which blared out among the dull browns, greys and yellows of the wasteland, and know that he had a job to do. Sarah didn't envy him that job though, she knew the Wanderer had a reputation for being persuasive but it was obvious that there was more to this strange, ever smiling man than what had met the eyes.

It was pitch black when Gallows crept into the scrap yard, a pistol held ready in his hand, he crouched down by a rusted car and stayed there, still as a statue, straining his senses as he listened; mentally sifting through the ambient sounds of the wasteland searching for anything suspicious. When his paranoia was calmed Gallows began to move again, haphazardly making his way towards the central compound where he had seen Sarah make the signal earlier.

* * *

Gallows had spent the rest of the day using his scope to scan every inch of the compound but he had not been able to find any other people in the scrap yard beside the pale, skinny man that Sentinel Lyons evidently believed to be the target that the Wanderer had been looking for.

It had been three days since Gallows had last seen the Wanderer but Gallows wasn't worried about the man. He could handle himself just fine, Gallows was sure that Jack would come waltzing into the bar in Megaton with some unbelievable tale about his latest adventure. Gallows had overheard some of his fellow knights accuse Jack of being nothing more than an arrogant, boastful mercenary but Gallows knew better, he knew that Jack was just like him. Sure Jack wasn't the 'quiet' type, quite the opposite in fact but he never boasted about his achievements instead he self-deprecated himself and what he had done hiding his heroics behind a wall of sarcastic comments and inappropriate jokes just as Gallows hid behind his helmet and silence.

Gallows adjusted his grip on the handle of his 10mm as he got to the wall of the inner compound. He was sure that the man wasn't alone, after all if he was the target then he had just bought a major weapons shipment, too large for one man to move. And if the Sentinel believed that this was the target then Gallows was sure. Sentinel Lyons was one of the few people that he trusted absolutely, like him she only wanted what was best for the Brotherhood which was like an extended family to both them and to the rest of the Lyon's Pride.

Pausing by the entrance to the compound Gallows took a calming breath before taking a sweeping glance of the area searching for any additional enemies that he needed to kill. The Wanderer might have preferred they be given the chance to surrender but this was about the Brotherhood's survival and Gallows would not be risking that by leaving one alive only to catch a bullet in the back.

He counted three men lying asleep in the compound, obviously they had moved in after dark to avoid detection. It looked like someone was almost as paranoid as him. The three men were clearly mercenaries however from their kit they were no part of any of the local mercenary companies. Still that was no reason to spare them; the pale man would give him all the answers he wanted, people always gave Gallows what he wanted. Gallows had been taught how to be _persuasive_.

When Elder Lyons had noticed his talents and approached him about becoming a special operative for the Brotherhood Gallows had eagerly accepted, honoured to be serving the steel in such a unique way. The brutal training had crushed that youthful enthusiasm, the endless laps, the endless weight training, balancing on single wooden pole above hot coals, all there to increase his endurance so that he could take the final lesson. Torture, both being tortured and how to do it to others and now to Gallows it was as much a tool as his scope or his laser rifle. Everyone talks, that was what he learnt when he was been _taught_ and Gallows had hated that, hated the fact that he might betray his Brotherhood if he was ever captured, which when you are expected to perform solo operations was a lot more likely, so he just stopped talking all together, conditioning himself not to talk. He had always been a quiet guy so it wasn't really noticed as he faded silently in the background, only coming back to the fore when violence was needed.

And now those skills, learnt in a cold, dark wasteland cave, would help him save the Brotherhood and that Gallows thought contentedly justified all that he and the other recruits had suffered. He pulled the 'infiltrator' as Jack had called of his back, stroking his hand down the long black barrel, stopping at the suppressor. Jack had joked that the two were made for each other, both deadly but silent. Gallows had glared at him then but now he readied it for battle, a half smile came to his face and he conceded that Jack was right, this was the weapon for him.

He brought up a mental image of the compound placing each one of the combatants and working out how best to proceed. When he was done held the rifle steady, flicked off the safety and burst through the gate into the compound.

He let of a burst of fire which slammed into the first man, who had been dozing by the fireside, from the layout it seemed that he was the lookout but the cold night and warm fire had been enough to make him drift along that faint line between dreaming and awake. They were good though, as he had shot the first man the other two were stumbling from their beds, grabbing whatever was to hand, before charging Gallows.

Reversing the gun Gallows smashed the butt into the second man's head, the man dropped like a stone, the keen combat knife dropping out of his nerveless hands. The third man had further to run and this spelt death for him as it gave Gallows time to fire another deadly accurate burst of fire that ripped into the man's chest and he fell to the floor, choking on his own blood.

The night fell silent apart from the choked gargles of the dying man and even that stop when Gallows took pity on him and out him out of his misery with a quick shot to the head. Turning gallows made for the pristine tent at the North West corner of the camp, his weapon held at the ready as he made his way towards the tent flaps.

* * *

Sarah jolted awake as she heard a rumbling explosion and to her horror the smoke appeared to be pluming from the scrap yard. What the hell was happening over there? When she got to Megaton the other two had some explaining to do, Sarah did not like been kept out of the loop. As she drifted off to sleep, such was the faith she had in the Wanderer and Gallows, it never occurred to her that one of them could have died in that explosion.


	20. Chapter 20

**Sorry this chapters so short but I have been very busy at University this past week. Hopefully the next one will be longer, hard to see how it won't be with Sarah, Gallows and Glade reuniting as well as finding out what Jack's been up to this whole time.**

**Again apologies for the shortness but I knew if I kept writing I had to have to write a whole lot more and then you guys would've been waiting for ages. This way you get a whole chapter to read.**

The pale man allowed himself a small smile as he slowly clapped his hands, where his tent had once been there was a small crater; apparently someone had fallen for his little booby trap. His employer had not just hired him for his immaculate appearance and his keen mind, he was also astoundingly perceptive and he had immediately been suspicious of one of Harith's new 'guards'. The two men had been typical mercenaries, dumb muscle, though one seemed to possess a malicious cunning. The woman however had stood out, she seemed out of place she was too intelligent, too perceptive to still be a simple caravan guard.

He had always amused himself by throwing subtle insults at the more mentally impaired and while earlier today they had flown right by the men in the caravan he had noticed the amusement in the female's eyes as Harith incomprehensibly blabbered on. There was something more to her, she was out of place and that had aroused his suspicions. Not enough for him to question to her and risk revealing his hand but enough that he had decided to take some extra 'precautions'. He had thought it had probably been nothing but he was not willing to risk his employer's displeasure if there was indeed something amiss and he failed to act accordingly.

So he had ordered one of his guards to rig the tent to explode if someone were to enter the tent and he had relocated to an old shack at the other end of the compound, it had not been as comfortable as his tent but at least he hadn't had to have slept on the ground like a barbarian. And of course he was willing to suffer a little discomfort if it stopped anyone from meddling in both his and his master's affairs.

He frowned at slightly at the dead bodies of his former guards, it wasn't that he regretted their deaths; it was the fact that they had allowed themselves to be overwhelmed so easily. He had not heard the sound of a fire fight which meant that the fools had allowed themselves to be taken by surprise. Taking out a small pocketbook and pen the man quickly scribbled down a name, the company for which his former guards had worked for; obviously the standards at the particular company were no quite high enough, no matter there were others who could…

The cold touch of steel at his neck threw all his plans and schemes into a dark corner of his mind, his nerveless hands dropping his notebook, letting him focus entirely on the words that his captor spoke calmly into his ear.

* * *

"Nice try"

Gallows' ears were still ringing from the explosion that had thrown his body across the compound, thudding it into a wall of tires which had half collapsed onto him. It had occurred to Gallows just before he entered the tent that there weren't enough men. The weapons shipment that the pale man had bought was too heavy for just four men to carry so where were the rest?

In answer to that question the paranoid part of his brain had screamed at him that someone wanted him to attack. Someone wanted him to enter that tent otherwise why would they have made it that easy. So Gallows had rolled a solitary tire into the tent, hoping set of the tripwire or pressure plate that he was sure was waiting for him.

What he hadn't expected was the large explosion that erupted as the tire passed through the tent flaps. His ears were still ringing, his body still battered and bruised and his head ached from a gash on his forehead where a piece of shrapnel had whipped across his forehead. He let out a low menacing growl, half to scare the pale man whose head he gripped pulling it back slightly to further expose the neck; half because of his fury that he had not foreseen the possibility of the tent been laced with explosives. He had been lucky he had not been standing closer and to Gallows being lucky was for the inept. If you were intelligent and skilled you did not need luck, it was an insult to his abilities that he had had to rely on luck to save his life.

"Drop the gun" Gallows barked out the order which was obeyed readily enough, a pristine white pistol landing with a thud to his right, followed by a tinkling sound which signified the bullets being dropped beside it.

"Who you working for?" Gallows growled, allowing his knife to draw beads of blood to accentuate the threat in his voice.

"I'm afraid I have no idea what you're talking about sir. My name is Boston and I am but a humble merchant." The lie, which they both knew it was, was told smoothly, a barely detectable quaver in Boston's voice.

"Bullshit" Gallows snapped as he stamped on the joint at the back of Boston's knee forcing the man to slump down onto his knees as he cried out in pain, the movement causing Gallows' knife to dig a little deeper into Boston's neck. "New answer?"

"I'm afraid I have no other answer for you" Boston replied causing Gallows to shake his head disappointedly, looks like he'd have to get his answers the hard way then. Moving the blade away from Boston's neck he drew it back before whipping it round and slamming the handle into the back of Boston's head and sending him sprawling on the wet ground.

Placing his knee on the center of Boston's back to prevent him getting up again Gallows grabbed the man's left hand tightly. He'd start with the little finger and work his away across he was pretty sure he'd have all the answers he needed by the time he'd made his way over to the thumb.

Just as he was about to begin sawing through the flesh and bone of Boston's fingers he heard the steady thump of marching boots and with a jolt Gallows realised that his time was up. Apparently the rest of Boston's men had arrived. Aiming a bad tempered kick at Boston's midriff, Gallows looked for an escape route, finding one where the explosion had torn a gap in the compounds fence.

He was about to sprint to safety when he spied a pocket book and pen lying on the floor where Boston had been standing, figuring it was his best chance at salvaging some viable intel from this shambles of an operation Gallows reached down and grabbed it before making his escape. He figured he had about four hours of darkness to get away before dawn broke and he would have to go to ground or risk being tracked by Boston's men.

Sentinel Lyons wasn't going to be pleased with him, he thought tiredly, not only had he failed to get any serious intelligence from Boston, if that was even his real name, but he had lost the Lone Wanderer. The latter, whether she would admit or not, was going to make her very bad company in the coming weeks. Still that wouldn't stop any of them doing their job, Gallows was going to find out who was behind all this and he was going to stop them, at any cost. That may not have been the Wanderer's way but his way had got him killed and Gallows couldn't fail or the Brotherhood would slowly die as the Super Mutants whittled them away.


	21. Chapter 21

**This is early as I am off on a TA Selection Weekend on Friday afternoon and so it was easier to post this tonight.  
**

**Also I'd like to shamelessly encourage you lot to check out my new fallout story 'Redemption'. Picked up a couple of pointers from here and I was keen to implement them so I started a new story. Still Intend to finish this one though so will update every friday as usual.**

Sarah's fingers drummed impatiently on the bar as she waited impatiently for the Wanderer and Gallows to join her and Glade at Moriarty's. She had been waiting in this damn bar for two days now and her patience was beginning to wear thin, the only reason that she wasn't furious at this endless waiting was because of what had happened when she had left Harith.

She had broken that slimy turd Dez's nose when he, upon finding she was leaving, had tried to grope her. Pouring all her frustration and anger into one punch she had smashed her fist into his face, heard the satisfying crunch of his nose breaking and walked away from his unconscious body with a smirk on her face.

So luckily for Gallows and the Wanderer her good mood meant that she was willing to live with a light delay but if the indeterminable waiting stretched into a third day, her mood would sour and god help the bastards then.

She looked across at Glade who unlike her seemed to be enjoying the time they spent in this bar, then again Glade had always been able to walk into any room and be best friends with everyone there when he left again. While she had sat by the radio, nursing a drink and scowling at anyone who attempted to talk to her, he had been joking and laughing with whoever happened to be sitting next to him.

She sometimes found herself envying people like Jack…the Wanderer and Gallows who seemed to be able to laugh so easily, people who never seemed to be alone. It was a talent she had never seemed to possess.

The creaking sound of the door opening ripped her from her melancholy thoughts and she whipped round to see if they had finally arrived. She smiled as she saw Gallows step into the dim light of the bar but her smile quickly turned to a frown when the door slammed shut behind him. Why the hell was he alone? Where was he?

As Gallows stepped closer, she began to worry more as she took in his battered appearance and the stiffness with which he carried himself. Gallows and…the Wanderer were two of the toughest guys in the wasteland but by the look of things Gallows looked pretty beat up. Maybe there had been more to that explosion that she had had thought. Unable to contain herself she blurted out the question that had been racing through her mind since Gallows had stepped into Moriarty's alone.

"Where is he?"

* * *

Jack felt two pairs of hands grip his arms tightly as they hauled up in a effort to get him upright. Pretending that he was more injured than he was Jack began to collapse again but the hands holding him prevented him from doing so. A deep voice to his left spoke hurriedly to someone in front of him in a strange language that Jack had never heard before.

Whatever the deep voiced man had said it had certainly been controversial as an explosion of voices followed his statement, gradually getting louder as men shouted over each other. He felt one pair of hands drop, glancing up he could see their owner gesticulating wildly, occasionally slamming his hands down to point at Jack. Seeing the vindictive expression on the man's face Jack really hoped that he lost the current argument which he was beginning to suspect was about what they were going to do with him. That suspicion was confirmed when he saw another man pull his fist across his throat, apparently a universal gesture though one that did bode well for Jack.

An older man, in his late forties maybe the mud smeared across their skin made it hard to guess at their age or even read their facial expressions, lifted his hand and smacked the man who had suggested killing Jack round the back of head. Jack decided he liked this new guy and as the man shouted down the rest of the men this feeling was only reinforced. From what Jack was able to work out from his gesticulations the older man wanted to take Jack somewhere to the West. As they calmed down and further attention was drawn to Jack, Jack felt it would be prudent to keep pretending his injuries were worse than they were and he slumped down again, held up only by the iron grip on his left arm.

A chorus of voices answered the older man's and apparently they had agreed to his plan, whatever it was as another pair of hands gripped his right arm and they began to carry Jack west. It was kind of relaxing, Jack thought, being carried it was certainly better than walking everywhere though they could definitely carry him more comfortably. It was probably best he didn't mention that fact to the guys carry him however, somehow he didn't think they'd apologise and put him on their shoulders. Still all in his entire plan was going quite well if Jack did say so himself.

To a casual observer Jack's 'plan', if making it up as you go could be called a plan, was going disastrously. As soon as he was within reach one of the 'Radmen' had smashed him in the head with the butt of a spear. The weapon, though outdated, had been used effectively and Jack had been knocked unconscious.

Looking about now as they half-carried, half-dragged him across the wasteland Jack noticed that all of their weapons were similarly old-fashioned. The Radscorpion armoured men were carrying a motley array of spears, axes and most bizarrely bows and arrows. Jack was beginning to revise his, admittedly fleeting, suspicion that they were in league with whoever was paying off the mercs and raiders. No, apparently it was just Jack's lucky day and he had a bunch of badly dressed tribals to deal with. That was Jack's last thought before he drifted back into unconsciousness, the blow to head taking a greater toll than he had initially thought.

* * *

"I don't know" Usually Gallows would've shrugged his shoulders, avoiding any need to speak, but from the look on Sarah's face he knew that she would not have reacted well if he had done that, taking his reluctance to speak as nonchalance about the Wanderer's fate. Although if Gallows was honest he didn't overly care about the Wanderer at this point in time, it wasn't that he didn't like him because he was one of the few people Gallows actually liked. It was the fact that the Wanderer was a tough soldier and could take care of himself, right now there was a mission to complete.

The order of priorities was clear in Gallows' mind, the mission always came first especially when it was a mission as important as this. The notebook he found had yielded some names and Gallows believed that if they managed to track down some of the names then they could start making some damn progress. However he doubted that Sentinel Lyons would see things the same way, she had feelings for the Wanderer, it seemed to be goddamn obvious to everyone but her and the Wanderer and if there she believed that he was alive she'd order them all to go after him.

So Gallows made a decision, it was actually what the Wanderer would've wanted Gallows reflected wryly. After all he had gave that cryptic message about him being dead if he wasn't at Megaton and the Wanderer knew how important this mission was. The Sentinel would be pissed as hell when she found out what he had done but Gallows knew he could take it. All the mattered was the result, if getting their meant breaking the Sentinel's heart then so be it.

"Pretty sure he dead though" There it was out there now, there was no turning back. A couple of days would be wasted while she grieved but this was Sentinel fucking Lyons, soon that grief would turn into raw hatred and then they would get out there, kick some ass and get the mission done, no matter what it took. She could be furious at him when the Brotherhood was safe.

She could feel the tears welling up at corner of her eyes and she blinked furiously trying to dispel them. She wasn't going to fucking cry, she wasn't a child, she was a goddamn fucking Sentinel and Sentinel's didn't cry…especially over traitors like him…like Jack. Fuck she was going to cry, bolting up from her bar stool she made a dash for her room upstairs, it was one thing to cry, it was a whole over thing to cry in front of a crowd. She didn't know how or why, frankly at this point she didn't care, all she knew was the one man who'd she believed would always be there, looking out for everyone was gone. The worst part about was that it had took his death to make her realise her feeling for him. Muffling a sob, she flung the door closed behind her and flung herself onto the dirty sheets, finally letting the tears run freely. She heard a knock on her door

"Fuck off" There was only one person Sarah wanted to see right now and he was dead. She waited until she heard the retreating footsteps and the she let herself sob into her pillows, her cries wracking her whole body.

* * *

This really isn't my day today, Jack thought as he regained consciousness for the second time today, the pounding headache had continued unabated. He winced as his foot smacked into a particularly large rock. They were climbing a rather large hill and as the guards got more tired they let Jack hang lower and unfortunately for Jack the hill had quite a few rocks littering its slope. The sooner we get to the top of this hill the better thought Jack, as he began to get annoyed with continuous bumping and jarring.

As they crested the hill, his guards began to chat in what sounded like a happy tone. His curiosity aroused Jack looked up to see why they were so pleased.

"Holy shit" Jack exclaimed, receiving a light blow to the back of his head for his trouble. Jack didn't notice the blow though, so engrossed was he in the sight that unveiled before him. A camp numbering in the hundreds stretched out before, it was a city hidden in the desert.

As he was dragged through the makeshift streets of the tented city Jack fervently thanked his lucky stars that he had decided to try and find a peaceful way to deal with these 'Radmen'. He was confident that he had made the right decision because of what he saw, which was not a city full of blood thirsty raiders and savages but a encampment full of civilians, mothers and daughters, fathers and sons. Without the barbaric armour and the mud masks they looked like normal people, people you wouldn't look twice at if you walked past them in Megaton or Rivet City.

He drew quite a crowd as he carried through the streets, eventually his guards made a protective circle around most likely in reaction to hostile yells that could occasionally be heard over curious murmurings of the people that lined his way. They passed a line of soldiers that prevented the crowd from following them and in the significantly clearer streets Jack began to notice that the tents were larger, of better quality and the people were dressed in finer clothing, apparently he had entered a more opulent district of the tented city.

As they approached what Jack assumed to be the centre of this canvas metropolis Jack noticed a wooden palisade rising up, manned by more of the scorpion clad soldiers. It was a well maintained wall with no tents pitched within 50 yards of its walls, giving a clear line of sight to its defenders. Apparently someone here knew the business of war very well.

The guards at the gate looked curiously at Jack, who had to hide a smile as he imagined what they saw. A bedraggled man covered in mud and blood dressed in, what would be to them, strange clothes. His head had began to clear and Jack felt able to fight if he needn't to but still he kept up the appearance of being badly injured, it was the only advantage he had after all.

They dropped him roughly in a muddy courtyard and proceeded to make a lose circle around him, off duty guards who had been milling in the courtyard came over to stare at him as he lay flat on the floor but they were prevented from getting to close by his guards. Just over the babble of voices he could hear a door creaking open, absentmindedly wondering who the hell had a door in this maze of tents Jack lay his face down in the mud but its soon jerked up again as a loud shout pierced the night and everyone fell silent. Apparently, Jack thought with a grin, the boss had arrived.

**Don't worry I'll soon be getting rid of the name 'Radman', Jack's taste in names is awful perhaps funny at first but his joke soon wears thin.**


	22. Chapter 22

**Sorry that this chapter is so short and so late but I have been very busy with university and the officer training core so I have not had much of an opportunity to write recently. Basically what I am trying to say is that my writing may become erratic in the near future as I will write a lot when I have the time and not so much when I am busy as I have been these past two weeks.** **Still don't worry I will finish this story, I do hate unfinsed stories.**

**Anyway sorry for the shortness of this chapter but I had to have something to go with this announcement as I also dislike seeing that the's a new chapter up only to find out it's just the author whining about something and there's no actual story. Anyway hope you're enjoying the story and don't worry Jack'll be back to his investigation once he wraps up his little excursion.**

The 'boss' was an old man, dressed in simple clean white robes that were belted in the middle by a an old rope belt and when he walked an old pair of tan sandals revealed wizened old feet that had a deep tan colour despite the fact that they obviously hadn't seen the sun in a while. Still despite the man's advanced age, the slow juddering movements and the fact that he had to walk with assistance of a cane the old guy still managed to exude authority. Still Jack was Jack and he had never quite learned to listen to that little voice in his head that told when it was good time to crack a joke. That voice was currently screaming at him to keep his insolent mouth shut, but Jack being Jack, he decided to open it anyway.

"How the hell do you keep that robe so white? Ooof!" Jack made the second sound as one of his guards slammed a fist into his stomach, angrily shouting at him in his strange language. "What the hell you can't even understand what I'm saying, I mean complimenting his…" A second harder punch caused Jack to crumple silently to the floor, where he heaved in ragged gasps. The guard raised his hand to strike him once more but was stopped by a booming voice that rang out clearly across the busy courtyard.

Looking up Jack was surprised to see that the source of the voice was none other than the old chief who stood stock still staring at the man who had struck him. The man stepped back looking chastened though when the old chief looked away again, the man shot a malicious look at Jack as he slammed his fist into his palm, another quaint old gesture that seemed to be universal.

That back to the old chief Jack saw that he was now staring right at him, a look of genuine curiosity upon his face, meeting his eyes Jack stared back, a slight smile creeping onto his face. To Jack it seemed that the old man gave a ghost of a smile before he turned away, heading back to the large tent that he had emerged from, his entourage following suit.

As soon as the last of the entourage stepped into the tent Jack felt another vicious kick thud into his side, realising that if he didn't act soon he was going to beaten pretty badly if not killed by a blow to the head. Tensing his muscles Jack waited patiently for the opportunity to strike, aware that being so outnumbered surprise would be his only advantage in this fight.

His opportunity came when one man heaved to his feet, pinning Jack's arms behind his back and exposing his torso for a brutal one-two combination by a second man, two others laughed and cheered as the punches made Jack gasp in pain. He spat at the man hoping to anger him and drive the man to aim a little higher. Roaring as he wiped spittle off his cheek the man aimed a blistering right hook at Jack's head.

Jack had been waiting for this punch and he stamped his right leg down hard onto the foot of the man behind him, his sturdy boots crunching down on the man's toes, the flimsy moccasins that the man wore offering little protection. Howling the man released Jack's arms and Jack ducked the second man's punch which instead smashed into the face of the already injured first man. An audible crack could be heard as the man's nose broke. Jack finished the job as he flicked his leg backwards, his foot grinding into the man's groin. Collapsing onto the floor in the foetal position the man whimpered quietly, overloaded by the pain he was experiencing. One down, Jack thought grimly, three to go.

Lashing out with a quick jab Jack forced the second man to step away allowing Jack to quickly vault over the whimpering body of the first man thereby giving himself some breathing room. From his new position Jack could see all three of his opponents clearly, they were all of an average build and had they been fighting one on one he would not have been unduly worried about any of his opponents, however if he didn't finish this fight quickly the numbers game would start to figure and he would be beaten viciously to the ground.

Roaring the man to his right charged swinging a wild right hook towards Jack. Ducking the blow Jack delivered a powerful left-right combination into his opponents abdomen. The man wheezed his momentum carried him past Jack, clutching his stomach in an effort to ease the pain. Anxious not give his opponent any time to recover Jack sprinted towards him leaping at the last second to deliver his knee to the man's lowered head.

Turning away from his second opponent's unconscious form, Jack stared threateningly at his final two opponents before raising his hand and beckoning them in a taunting gesture. Instead of roaring and charging towards him as Jack had hoped they glanced cautiously at each other before slowly advancing towards Jack, they had seen what he could do and they were not taking any chances.

Realising he needed to do something before they overwhelmed him Jack took a step back his boot slightly slipping in the muddy ground. As they came within ten yards of Jack an idea finally came to him and reaching down he grabbed a fistful of mud before hurling it at the rightmost man. The mud hit him squarely in the face, momentarily blinding him.

Taking advantage of the second's man surprise at his unorthodox counter offensive Jack sprinted forward smashing shoulder into the man's midriff before wrapping his hands around the small of the man's back and lifting him into the air before spinning round and slamming the man into harder, less muddy ground. Getting back to his feet Jack stomped down hard onto the man's face, his boot dislocating the man's jaw.

A blow to the back of Jack's head made him stumble forward his vision momentarily blurring. Whipping around with a head high kick Jack drove his attacker backwards and allowed Jack to turn and face him. The man look angry, evidently his pride had been hurt by the mud thrown at his face. He came forward again throwing a series of quick, efficient punches towards Jack, dodging and step backwards Jack managed to avoid all but the final one in which he caught a glancing blow to the ribs.

By this point Jack was panting heavily and his head was aching because of the head wounds he sustained during the day. Realising that time wasn't on his side Jack stepped in to meet the salvo of punches, pushing the final one out wide to the left before gripping the inside of the forearm and delivering a flurry of punches to the exposed stomach, as his attacker crumpled to floor Jack smashed his knee into the falling man's face.

He put his hands behind his head trying to draw more air into his screaming lungs as he tried to recover enough energy to enact an escape. After a couple of minutes Jack was about to run when armed guards suddenly dashed out, their bows trained on Jack, swearing he rose his hands in surrender.


	23. Chapter 23

**It's short but I'm just warming up again so don't worry, the chapters will lengthen as we go. Essays are done, I have some time off so hopefully I get get this story moving again. Sorry for the wait guys.**

Jack stared at the taunt bow strings and the glint of the arrow heads in the sunlight as he frantically wracked his head for any possible escape routes. A menacing silence had enveloped the courtyard, broken only by groans of the men would had attacked Jack from where they had fallen in the muddy ground, one had fallen in a small puddle which had reddened slightly as blood poured from his shattered nose. Jack's condition was not much better than his former opponents, the ribs on his right side ached appallingly, Jack suspected that the last opponents punch had at the very least cracked a couple of ribs.

A loud laugh boomed across the courtyard, dispelling the tension immediately though Jack did not relax fully until the bowmen had allowed their bowstrings to relax and arrows not longer menacingly pointed at him. The circle of bowmen parted as the chief walked in , his white robe somehow still spotless despite the churned up, muddy wasteland that the courtyard had become.

"Easy enough just grab the old bastard and escape using him as a hostage" Jack muttered to himself as old chieftain slowly made his way towards Jack. Any sympathy he had once had for the old guy had been clouded by the pain that seemed to emanate from every part of his body. Sure the old chief had been kind to him but at this point Jack only thought was to escape what looked like an imminent death.

"That's not a very gracious way to thank the 'old bastard' who saved your life now is it?" Jack was startled out of his thoughts by the deep, kindly voice and he looked up disbelievingly into the weathered, smiling face of the chief.

"You speak English?"

"Yes, quite well in fact, I did some travelling in my younger days" The old man paused to chuckle "How else was I supposed to talk to the girls?" He asked with a twinkle in his eyes.

"Hang on if you could understand everything I said why'd you let that twat" Jack gestured at one of the moaning men on the ground "hit me, I was just complimenting your robe"

"I know, and might I say thank you for that courtesy. I allowed Kakawangwa to strike you as I knew that they believed you to be weak, easy prey, they had to learn to respect you, sadly some men only respect those who are stronger than themselves." Jack glanced at a man writhing in the mud the man returned his look, staring maliciously at Jack who winked in reply.

"He doesn't seem to fond of me" Jack said gesturing at the man.

"Respect is not the same as being liked, but for a leader respect is infinitely more important" The old chief said firmly. "You are a leader"

"I'm not…" Jack began

"Yes you are" The old man cut him off "It is obvious in how you speak, how you talk and in your actions. You are a leader and…" The old man waved a hand around the courtyard "a skilled warrior. A man who knows how to fight a war and most importantly a good man"

"How" Jack voice came out broken and hoarse and he stopped to clear throat before he began to speak again "How do you know I'm a good man?"

"You could have killed these men, you had every reason to after the way they had treated you but yet you didn't, and I would guess that the thought of killing them never crossed your mind." Jack's gaze had dropped to stare at the hem of the old chief's robe but a gentle hand tipped his chin upwards again until he found himself staring at old chiefs face, the man's steely eyes seeming to look straight through him. "You are a young man, a very young man but yet your eyes seem as old as mine. You have seen great evil, I have no doubt that you yourself have committed acts which you or others would view as…unsavoury. But that does not change the fact that you are essentially a good man. Do not ever forget that my young friend"

Jack nodded, biting back the tears that threatened to spill out, the old chief words had soothed his deepest fears, he had seemed to know just what to say and Jack felt himself stand a little straighter, for the first time since he had entered the Pitt, he actually believed that he was a good man.

"Is there something you wish to discuss?"

"Yes" The old chief nodded "I have a proposition for you, if you would come into my tent I would be glad to explain to you…Wanderer."


	24. Chapter 24

Sarah growled as she slammed the unfortunate mercenary into the wooden wall of the old, deserted house, hundred year old dust was thrown into the air by the air by the impact of the body, creating a thin mist that momentarily hid the terrified merc's face from Sarah's view. It coated the raiders clothing, clinging to it, making the man seem like a ghost. Appropriate, Sarah thought angrily, as the raider was a dead man walking.

The man in question was known to his friends as Five Fingered Jim, unusually for a merc he wasn't an extremely violent, sadistic killer although Sarah couldn't have cared less about his personal moral stance. All she cared about was the badge on Five Fingered Jim's dull gunmetal grey uniform which proudly proclaimed that he a member of the Bloodclaws, a mercenary company whose name was the most recent entry in a pocketbook that Gallows had managed to retrieve from Boston in the scrap yard.

It had been a week since Gallows had brought news of the wanderer's death and Sarah had locked herself in her room for a whole day while she alternated between sobbing and beating the crap out of any man unfortunate enough to complain about the former. The grief had quickly transformed itself into anger and Sarah had stepped out of the room with a cold glint in her eye, tersely demanding an update of the situation and what information Gallows had been able to secure.

The next two days had been spent gathering information on the various names that appeared on the list. Some had stars next to them and accordingly Sarah placed special emphasis on gathering intelligence on those people. Some had crosses next to their names, such as the Bloodclaws, Sarah suspected that these were people that had fallen into disfavour with Boston. Those names would have their uses but they were unlikely to have any up to date info as they were most likely in hiding.

Sarah believed that they were in hiding because of the third category of names on the list, names that had a single black line drawn through them, dead men. Evidently Boston was quite happy to kill those who had displeased him.

Five Fingered Jim's name did not have a star next to it; in fact his name was not even on the list. The reason that he was pinned to the wall by Sarah was because, Sarah thought angrily, the damn investigation had got them nowhere and when they were at their most frustrated, this idiot had strolled into Moriarty's and attempted to chat up Nova with grand stories about his role as a 'Procurement Specialist' for the Bloodclaws.

"I'll talk, I'll talk" Five Fingered Jim gasped, blood spraying from his mouth a result on the punch that Sarah had delivered when they had ambushed the man in Springvale, near one of the old ruined houses that lined the road heading north, passing Vault 101 as it meandered across the hot, sandy wasteland. Sarah, Gallows and Glade had ambushed the man as he left Megaton the following afternoon, whistling happily, evidently whatever he had come to Megaton for he had managed to 'acquire' it from the townsfolk. Gallows was standing somewhere behind Sarah, though she did not care enough to look around, she knew that he would be in the best position to provide help to both herself and Glade who was keeping watch on the street in case some other Bloodclaw mercenaries came looking for their friend.

A bead of sweat trickled it's way down from Jim's dirty blonde hair as he gulped, fear causing his already pale skin to whiten, combining with old dust to heighten the illusion that Five Fingered Jim was a ghost.

"I said I'd talk" He gasped, struggling to breathe, Sarah relaxed her grip on his throat slightly before staring at him questioningly. Jim got the hint and began babbling rapidly, he was a coward, Sarah thought disgustedly, he had significantly lowered her opinion of mercenaries and her opinion of them had been very low in the first place.

"Look, our base is the old Temple of the Union hideout, we moved in when the wanderer…" Jim stooped abruptly as he desperately tried to draw air into his lungs. Sarah realised that her grip had tightened involuntarily when he had mentioned _him_, taking a steadying breath Sarah loosened her grip once more, nodding at the mercenary to continue speaking. The man stared at her wide, terrified eyes before he starting talking again. "…cleared out the Talons from the Lincoln Memorial and the slaves packed up and left, the boss said there was no point letting such a defensible position lie empty when we could be putting it to better use."

"And where would you store the company's employment records?" Sarah growled

"They'll be in the Commander's office."

"One last question, were the men guarding this 'Boston' Bloodclaw?"

"Boston?"

"Pale, tall, wears a suit, very polite" Sarah snarled out a description, trying to control her hatred for the man she was describing, at the moment she held him responsible for _his_ death and until she found out who his employer was she was going to take out all her anger on 'Boston' or whatever his real name was.

"Uh….yeah, yeah that was one our contracts actually. Headed by Lieutenant Jameson, real tough bastard he is. Look I've told you all I know, could you let me go, I swear I won't tell no one nothing, you'll never hear from me again"

"No I won't" Sarah yelled furiously "You bastard Bloodclaws killed the man I loved and now I'm going to bloody kill you" She felt hot tears pour down her eyes as she snapped the whimpering mercenaries neck before she whirled away to another corner, furiously trying to bottle up her grief once again. "Search the body Gallows, see if there's anything extra we can get off him. And strip the uniform; we don't want word getting out to the Bloodclaws that one of theirs was killed. They might start asking questions.

"Sarah you all right?" Sarah recognised Glade's voice; he had obviously came inside to investigate when he heard her yelling. She did not turn to talk to him, not wanting him and Gallows to see her in a moment of weakness.

"I'm fine"

"You sure? You don't sound it and you didn't have to kill that poor bastard"

"Yes I did, he would've gone running to his bloody commander and then the whole damn company would've been on high alert"

"Alright so he did have to die, but I don't think that's the only reason you killed him"

"You know what, it doesn't matter why I did it, it had to be done and it's done so shut up and get ready to move out. We going to pay a little visit to the Bloodclaw headquarters" Sarah sighed inwardly as she heard Glade's retreating footsteps, she hadn't meant to be so harsh with him but the man had an unnerving habit of being able to almost read her mind. If she let him, he would probably get her to vent all of the swirling emotions that were ricocheting around her head. But she couldn't let that happen, she was Sarah Lyons and Sarah Lyons was goddamn machine, the perfect soldier and soldiers didn't breakdown and cry in the middle of a mission. When she saved the wasteland and killed anyone who was even partly responsible for _his _death then she'd grieve properly but until then she was not going to let her stupid fucking emotions get the better of her.


	25. Chapter 25

**Got more time to write so I am pumping out the chapters at the moment, will see if I can whip one in time for Christmas but for now here's another chapter. Thanks for reading.**

Jack coughed as he entered the smoky interior of the chief's tent, the source which was a small fire that burned in the center of the tent, with ample space around it for a group of 8 or 9 men to sit comfortably in a circle. The tent was about 12 feet high though the roof narrowed in as it rose, a small hole at the top of the tent allowed some of the smoke to escape. A pleasant smell of pine filled the tent, which combined with the warm, crackling fire created a very relaxing environment which gave Jack a feeling of calm that he hadn't experienced since he had left the vault.

"Sit" The old chief gestured to the space by the fire, he himself smoothing out his robe as he lowered himself onto a well worn cushion that sat opposite the entrance to the tent. He raised and eyebrow as his joints creaked in protest before chuckling slightly. "I'm an old man now, not young and springy like you. Wandering and growing old don't mix well I'm afraid, all those wounds and injuries catch up with you eventually."

"I don't think that'll be a problem for me" Jack gave a rueful chuckle "but let's move away from me depressingly empty future and into why you wanted to see me. Lets start with how you knew my name…title…whatever you want to call it"

"I am not the only one of my people to have traveled the wasteland. Those that have returned to us recently have been afire with stories about a 'Lone Wanderer' who defeated the enclave and gave fresh water to the whole of the capital wasteland. When I saw you, a fierce, cunning warrior with a rather…strange way of conducting yourself I guessed as to your identity. Apparently I was correct, nothing more sinister than that."

"Ah, so no evil plots or spies?"

"None"

"Ah…good, I guess. So I'm assuming the reason that your people are here is to do with the clean water?"

"Yes" The old chief paused to smoke from an old clay pipe before continuing "That water could save many of our people's lives, allow our children to grow up strong"

"Look" Jack held up his hands placatingly "I've no problem with but I doubt the rest of the capitol wasteland will be so trusting. They're not fond of strangers, I should know, I saved half the wasteland trying to convince the other half they could trust me. I don't think they'll react well to a couple thousand new people rocking up, your warriors get up isn't exactly the most trust inspiring appearance in the world."

"I am aware but if I am correct then the Wasteland needs my warriors to defeat these 'super mutants'. I believe saving the wasteland would garner us enough goodwill to allow us to settle"

"That's if we beat the super mutants, you could lose all your warriors in battle. The rest of your people would face a quick death."

"As opposed to a slow one in the wasteland, I believe my people would prefer a quick death"

"Not what most people mean by a win-win situation but it's not like I'm in a position to refuse any extra help. Even if I manage to stop whoever is behind the super mutant's growth, I still have to deal with all the super mutants that are spilling out of the D.C ruins. It is a battle that will cost many lives but it cannot be avoided and it must be won."

"I agree which is why my warriors will be sent to the settlement you call Megaton under the command of my finest war master. My warriors will fight to the last to secure their children a place to grow up in safety."

"Then thank you" Jack smiled and reached out to shake the old chiefs hand "If you help then I swear that I will grant you the land you need. But I cannot stay, I have been here long enough, my investigation is not yet complete and the others will be worried about me" Jack paused, frowning "Well Glade might be at least, I haven't made many friends in the wasteland and most of them are dead. But that doesn't change the fact that I have work to do."

"You shall not do it alone; I will send four of our greatest warriors with you. They are skilled and they are sworn to serve my people giving up all earthly possessions and ties even their names have been cast away so that they will never put personal gain ahead of the welfare of our people"

"As long as they don't try to kill me we'll get along fine" Jack said only half jokingly, he hadn't forgotten how the old chief's last lot of warriors had treated him. He got to his feet, brushing the dirt the clung stubbornly to his clothes off. He turned to leave but as he lifted the flap to the tent a thought struck him and he turned back to face the old chief.

"You know my name, but you never told me yours."

"I told you that many men give up their names in order to serve our people without prejudice that is especially important when you are the chieftain. I have given up my name and all my possessions the same as the warriors that accompany you. If you need a name for me then 'Chief' will do as well as any other. Now, you should find your bag and any equipment you brought with you outside, go now and help me save my people."

Jack nodded, not fazed by the fresh burden that had been laid on his shoulders, what was a thousand lives when you already had the whole of the capital wasteland relying on you. He stepped out of the tent, blinking as eyes adjusted from the brightly lit tent, to the dull gloom, apparently while he had been talking to the old chief the bright afternoon had faded to dim evening. Spying his rucksack on the floor, he knelt down and pulled out his armour and red baseball cap. Jack was fed up of playing games in the shadows, time was running out and he wanted his enemies to know that Wanderer was coming for them; he wanted the people of the capital wasteland to know that the Wanderer was going to save them.

He let out a contented sigh as he stripped off the battered, dirt encrusted leather armour that he had worn as part of his disguise and replaced it with his green ranger battle armour relishing its comforting weight. He had worn that armour so long that when he wasn't wearing it he missed its weight. He reholstered his .44 magnum and slung his rifle over his back before he jammed his red baseball cap onto his head. For the first time in weeks he felt content for once, more like his old self, say what you want about an impending super mutant invasion, Jack thought wryly, it certainly doesn't leave any shades of grey as to which side you should be on. He had missed that feeling of knowing you were on the right side, he hadn't felt that feeling since before the Pitt when he was fighting the enclave alongside the blasted Brotherhood.

"Sir" Jack looked up from fastening his belt to find four warriors facing him, each wearing a more refined light weight version of the Radscorpion armour that he seen the earlier warriors wearing. He let out a relived breath, this armour looked more like the leather armour that was common around the wasteland and thus was less likely to terrify the local inhabitants.

"You must be the four warriors the…uh…the chief mentioned would be accompanying me."

"We are" The same warrior answered again, a helmet and war paint obscured his features, leaving only the man's eyes visible, they were a flinty grey and stared steadily meeting Jack's gaze. "We are servants of the tribe and thus have no names but you may call us by the weapons we wield, for that is what we are now, tools for the good of the tribe, weapons against our enemies. I am Sword" As he said this, he reached over his shoulder to draw the sword that was sheathed there. It was good quality sword, a katana, evidently a relic, though a well preserved one of before the war. Jack guessed that the weapons of these warriors had been passed down from warrior to warrior and that the other three would be similarly well equipped.

They were each carrying a different weapon though each handled their weapon confidently as Jack would've expected from elite warriors. As well as Sword who seemed to be the leader, there was a man wielding a spear, as long as man, a man who had two short axes stowed in his belt and finally a final one who had a bow had slung over their back.

"Let's go there are battles to be fought and men to be hunted. Fight well and your people will thrive, if we fail they will die" As one the warriors slammed their right fist to their hearts which Jack took to be their version of a confirmation. "Let's move out" Jack began to run before he turned to yell over his shoulder. "Which way is the capital wasteland exactly? We may be in an area my Pip-boy doesn't recognise." He said smiling sheepishly. In answer Sword pointed to the west.

"Thank you" Jack shouted before muttering under his breath "Great four more Gallows, I thought one was enough, if I thought conversations with him were awkward I wonder how bad the ones with these four will be. Still" Jack grinned "no reason not to try now is it."

* * *

Brotherhood Knight Baker heard the high pitched beeping of his laser rifle signifying that his micro fusion cell was drained. Pulling it out hurriedly, he ducked behind a nearby mound of rifle as he replaced the drained cell with a fresh one. He stood up again firing off a burst into the mass of super mutants that rushed down the street towards his squad before ducking behind the mound as the Uglies returned fire.

"What the hell are muties doing here this is a safe zone" Knight Marston voice crackled over the radio

"Fuck if I know, but we have to hold this street or the outlying patrols will be cut off. Hilton's squad needs time to get the water brahmin inside, the Citadel needs that water if there's a siege."

"Sir" The squad medic, Knight Barrow, joined the conversation "We already have White badly injured, Ramos is walking wounded. If it stays this hot then we won't be any shape to make a quick withdrawal."

"It can't be helped, if we don't hold hear the Brotherhood is finished. Fight on lads, for blood and steel"

"FOR BLOOD AND STEEL" Baker roared the battle cry as he eviscerated an ugly that had got too close for comfort, he didn't mind the dying part, as young lad from inner D.C he'd always expected that he'd be killed by a mutie. Dying fighting with his brothers of steel was a better death than he could have ever hoped for, maybe when he was dead the Brothers would be born into the Brotherhood would finally acknowledge that he was just as worthy as them.

He continued to fire into the seething mass of super mutants that surged up the street towards him, the combined mass of his squad's fire managing to keep them at bay as they held them back. Minutes passed slowly, but Baker was thankful for each knowing that as each minute crept by the Brotherhood's chances of survival went up.

Glancing around the ruins he noticed that there were no more flashes of laser beam streaking from his comrade's positions. Glancing to where Marston had been firing he jumped as Marston's body was hurled out onto the street, a rebar club embedded in the man's chest. So the mutie bastards had found a way to flank them, he was alone and surrounded, there would be no escape for him now. Roaring incoherently Baker emptied his rifle into the oncoming super mutants before dropping it on the floor and drawing out his ripper, a chainsaw knife.

"For the Brotherhood" He screamed, his voice drowned out by the super mutants own roars, as he charged towards the oncoming super mutants. He would die a good death.


	26. Chapter 26

**Thanks for the reviews guys, it's much appreciated. Now as one or two of you have pointed out I could use a beta to proof read my work and 'Americanize' many of the spellings and words. As you may have guessed I'm a Brit and sometimes the odd British word pops into the story when it doesn't really belong. (On that note you Americans should really use bloody more often, it's a great swear word ;))**

**Anyway so if anyone would like to volunteer, feel free to PM me with an email address and I'll forward you the next chapter so you can work your magic.**

**Anyway enjoy the chapter and I hope you all had a great christmas/new year**

* * *

"Gob, good to see you. No time to talk. Where's Sarah? In a hurry. Tell me quick." Jack blurted out his questions quicker than a machine gun as he stormed into Moriarty's, his four 'guards' at his back. Looking round he saw the patrons of the bar staring in shock, presumably they had noticed the exotic armour and realised that his companions were not from the local area.

"You…you're…you're dead" Gob stammered, his gravelly voice shocked. Apparently, Jack thought ruefully, they weren't staring at his companions after all.

"Well obviously that's not true, who told you I was dead?"

"One of the Brotherhood fellas told that girl Sarah that you was dead. She…uh…she didn't take that well." Oh shit, Jack thought to himself, upset Sarah Lyons soon turned into pissed off Sarah Lyons. Jack had been on the receiving end a couple of times and it wasn't pretty. Still nice to know she cared, despite the seriousness of the situation Jack felt a grin creeping on to his face. Goddammit Gallows really needed to learn when he was joking, for that matter he should be careful what he said to Gallows' clones, who were arrayed behind him.

"Any idea where they went?" Jack asked urgently, he really needed to catch up with Sarah before she did anything stupid.

"Yeah Stockholm saw heading down towards Springvale and they were quite interested in a Bloodclaw merc that went by the name of Five Fingered Jim. Maybe they was planning on something happening down there"

"Bloodclaw? Haven't heard of them and it's in my interest to keep myself in the loop regarding mercenaries. They have an annoying tendency to try to kill me."

"New group or else I woulda warned you about them by now. Mean bunch of bastards, worse than the Talons if you ask me, the Bloodclaws hire anyone but their trainings brutal by all accounts. Word is you have to kill a man with nothing but a rusty nail in order to become a member. They're leader, Commander Blitz he calls himself, is a real piece of work. Claims he killed a Deathclaw, wears the pelt like a cloak and the claws as some sorta glove. Not that I believe that, you're the only son of a bitch crazy enough to pick a fight with a Deathclaw and the only one good enough to live to tell the tale. Still he's a tough bastard regardless of that though."

Jack tossed a handful of caps onto the counter. "Thanks Gob, take this until I can settle up properly. In a bit of a rush right now."

"No problems Jack, always a pleasure." Nodding to Nova, who was eyeing him hopefully, Jack turned and rushed out the doorway making a beeline for Springvale. He stopped only to have brief chat with Lucas Simms about Megaton's state of readiness and to warn him that an army would be arriving in his doorstep. To his credit the man handled that particular bit of news quite well, but then the army was going to destroy the super mutant's hell bent on ripping his town to pieces.

When Jack reached Springvale he examined the area minutely, looking for any trace of Sarah, Glade or Gallows. He was about to give up when a piercing whistle stole his attention, glancing up he saw Sword standing in one of the ruined houses pointing at one of the walls.

When Jack had dashed over there he discovered what Sword had found, a large man shaped imprint in the wall.

"Yeah that's definitely Sarah" Jack muttered to himself, working hard to stop a smile creeping onto his face at the thought that she was this pissed about him being dead, it sent an almost electrifying shiver down his spine to know that she actually cared. Not that, he reminded himself, it mattered about she felt. He had lost enough people he cared about and he didn't want to add Sarah to that list. It was best for everyone he reassured himself, though the words rang hollow in his ear.

As he inspected the house a bath tub caught Jack's eye, it was lying upside down, which in itself was not out of the ordinary, what was however was the fact that upmost end was relatively clean and white. Apparently some one had recently turned the bath tub upside down, though why some one would want to do that Jack had no idea. Moving over to the tub, he grunted as he flipped it over revealing the body of a young man, his neck broken and a look of terror upon his face.

"Now what's your name matey?" Jack asked aloud as he crouched down to search the body for any clues though he doubted he would find much, the body having being stripped down to a t shirt and boxer shorts.

"'e went by Five Fingered Jim…mate, 'un I fink ya know who killed 'im." Turning around slowly Jack raised his arms, nodding at his three companions to do the same. There were five heavily armed men staring maliciously at Jack, all wearing the same grey uniform. The leader seemed to be a massive brute of a man, he was at least 7ft tall and heavily muscled to boot, an ugly scar on his right cheek told of a life time of fighting and somehow Jack doubted the man who had given the brute that particular scar had lived to tell the tale

"Hi there, you wouldn't happen to be Bloodclaw mercs by any chance would you?"

"Yeh, we would. Not your lucky day mate" The same brute of a mercenary answered him, carelessly running a hand over his short balding hair that was beginning to retreat back across the merc's head in a widow's peak. Looking at the big bastard Jack kind of wanted to copy the hair but unfortunately for him, if he wanted answers then he would have to make an example of this man mountain so that the others might decide that talking wasn't the worst thing they could do.

"Actually it _is_ my lucky day. I've been hoping to run into some Bloodclaws, I don't suppose one of you could point in me in the direction of the base?"

"Ha fucking ha. Ya fink ya funny don't ya? I'm gonna enjoy smashing the grin of your face"

"Come on this doesn't have to end violently"

"I like violence"

"I'm not a massive fan of it myself." Jack said mildly, examining his fingernails casually as he talked "But I'm quite good at it, even got myself a nick name"

"What the 'The Pathetic Posh Twat'" The brute guffawed at his joke, his companions joined in after a few moments and the air was filled with the mocking laughter."

"You got the first word" Jack smiled happily as their laughter subsided

"Wat pathetic?" The brute grinned lopsidedly back at him, clearly enjoying himself

"No, The" Jack growled his tone hardening, he knew that he was going to have beat this big, ugly fuck of a man into the ground if he wanted answers and he didn't have a problem with that. The man was a bully, pure and simple, and Jack hated bullies with a vengeance. He been bullied when he was in the vault and his initial hatred stemmed from that experience. But living in the wasteland had made him aware that names and fights were nothing compared to what shits like the one opposite him did. For men like that rape, murderer and robbery were just entertainment, they were the real bullies.

"The?" One of the brutes companions piped up questioningly, his rat like face contorted in a picture of confusion. He looked as if he was going to go on but he was silenced by a glare from the brute.

"The Lone Wanderer, why you heard of me?" Jack grinned wolfishly at the mercs, who with the exception of the brute took a nervous step back. "Guess you have"

"What the fuck do ya fink ya doing yew cowards, we got 'im outnumbered. There are five of us and only four of them" The mercs looked heartened and raised the weapons more confidently but the newfound confidence soon dissipated as Jack chuckled.

"Not surprised a big stupid bastard like you can't count, there are five of us. There's me, Sword, Axe, Spear and Bow's around here somewhere to." Jack smiled happily at the now nervous mercenaries. "He's probably lining up a shot right now. I wonder who'll get the arrow in the neck, any guesses?"

"Bullshit" The brute roared the expression of fury on face was evidence that he was well aware that his men were considering running for it. "He's lying, we are trained soldiers, no ones gonna get the fucking drop on us?"

"Oh yes of course, I'm sorry, there's no way that a bunch elite soldiers would get ambushed so easily." Jack spoke a perfectly serious tone "But then you're not elite soldiers, you're not even soldiers. You're bullies who are very brave when they're preying on the weak, but you piss yourselves when you meet real soldiers. Still no harm seeing if I'm lying." Jack raised his voice confident that Bow would be able to hear him. "Shoot the fat bastard on the right, the one with the horrible yellow rag on his head."

The mercenaries gasped as an arrow sprang out from the shadows of the opposite house and sunk into the fat merc's neck, they stared in horror as he fell to his knees scrabbling desperately at the arrow that had passed clean though his neck.

"Charge" Jack roared taking advantage of the distraction to close the distance before the mercs could regain their composure. "I want them alive and conscious" He ordered his companions as he made a beeline for the brute. It was time for a little demonstration to loosen the other merc's tongues.

Whatever the brutes other bad qualities cowardice wasn't one of them and he roared back as he swung round his pistol round, its muzzle arcing towards Jack's head. But Jack was quick and he had stepped inside the swing before the pistol could be levelled at his head. As he stepped inside Jack ducked down avoiding an attempted shove from the brute. Dropping to one knee Jack fumbled for a brick before springing back to his feet slamming the brick into the elbow of the brute's gun arm.

The brute howled as the brick smashed into his right forearm, the brute had seen the brick coming and tried to jerk his arm out of the way but he had not totally succeeded. Still the impact caused his arm to spasm and Jack smiled in triumph as the gun clattered to the floor. Now it was more even fight, he could have just shot the big bastard, it certainly would've been easier than fighting him hand to hand but the purpose of this fight wasn't just to kill the brute. It was to beat him down, smash him into the floor and scare the other mercenaries into spilling all they knew.

Jack risked a quick glance around to see how his companions were faring and smirked when he saw the remaining three mercs kneeling in line facing him and the brute. Around them stood his companions, their weapons were held loosely at their sides but Jack knew from sparring with them that they could strike a killing blow faster than a man could blink even from an apparently relaxed position.

Returning his attention to the brute Jack sprang duck under a wild swing by the brute, his instincts were screaming at him to stay away from the angry man the size of super mutant but the brute had him beat for reach and if he didn't get up close he get pummelled without landing another hit. Jack threw a left right combo into the brute's stomach but it seemed to have no effect on the brute who laughed as he clasped his hands into one giant fist which he swung down towards Jack's head. Rolling backwards Jack avoided the blow but the huge right hook that quickly smashed into his left eye sending him reeling backwards towards a wooden wall. Jack's head span but he had the wherewithal to backing towards the wall frantically trying to clear his head. Another blow slammed into his ribcage, his armour absorbed most of the blow but his chest still ached horribly.

Shaking his head to clear the cobwebs, Jack let loose a handful of wild swings, one of which caught the brute in the jaw knocking him back several paces buying Jack precious time to bury the pain in the corner of his mind as he focused on surviving. He dodged the next jab letting it fly past his head before grabbing the brutes arm as a second punch failed to connect. Holding the arm away with his left hand his right delivered three hard punches to brute's gut followed by a stamp onto the brutes left knee. He finished the combination with a hard head butt that sent both reeling away, the brute stumbling as he attempted to put weight on his damaged knee.

Jack groaned and swayed slightly, regretting the head butt, his head had taken way too much abuse and he couldn't see at all out of his left eye which had closed up after the brute's massive punch. Moving back into a fighting stance Jack began to circle his injured opponent whose hurt knee had limited his movement.

"Come on then tough guy" Jack taunted the brute hoping to provoke the man into an angry charge but he just growled in reply constant following Jack's movement, grunting in pain slightly when he had to shift his body round. Jack spat in frustration as the brute refused to respond to his taunts as he wasn't keen to get closer with his vision on his left compromised, any punches aimed at his left he wouldn't see coming until it was too late.

"Fuck it" He growled to himself sprinting towards his opponent, dropping under a thundering right punch to deliver a drop kick to the injured left knee. There was a loud crack as the knee cap splintered causing even Jack to wince in sympathy as the brute let out a whimper as he collapsed heavily onto the nearest wall. The other merc's watched with expressions of fear and awe on their faces from where they kneeled. Just a bit longer and they'd be spilling everything they knew, Jack thought happily; at least the beating he'd took wasn't for nothing. His body was aching abominably, the beating he took today had aggravated the wounds he had taken from his stay at the citadel. Jack rolled his shoulders tentatively, trying to ease some of the pain; he had to finish of this big bastard before he could succumb to the pain.

He advanced slowly, the brute was using one hand to support himself on the wall but even with one hand a well placed punch could still do a lot of damage to Jack, especially in his weakened state. Moving in closer he deflected a punch before hammering one of his into the brutes throat turning the brutes angry growl into a dismayed gurgle.

But reaching up the brutes tall 7 ft frame had left him exposed and Jack paid for that mistake as a punch slammed into his stomach sending him flying across the room and into the opposite wall. The ancient wooden wall had grown flimsy as it had aged and faced with the weight of Jack's body it gave way and Jack tumbled out onto the dusty street, retching from the blow to his gut.

"Don't fucking help" Jack managed to shout the words out in between heaves as he saw Sword start forward, in order to intimidate the mercs as much as possible he needed them to see him beat the brute by himself. He climbed to his feet, using the old picket fence to steady himself before he climbed back into the house through the new hole in the wall. "You've done it now you fucking bastard, you've gone and pissed me off." Jack yelled as he re-entered the room, all trace of a smile one from his face. He saw the uncertainty on his opponents face and knew that he was wondering what the hell it would take to put Jack down permanently.

Stepping forward Jack delivered a salvo punches to the torso of the brute finishing the combination with a knee that cannoned into the brute's crotch. As the brute gasped and sank to the floor Jack delivered a punch to the throat which was quickly followed by a knee to the jaw as the brute slumped against the wall half conscious as his senses overloaded with pain. Snarling Jack swung his foot round in lightning fast kick which smashed into the brutes head knocking it into the wall where it collided with one of the houses metal supports with a dull thud.

Jack sucked in a couple of breaths, trying to steady himself and hide his injuries so that when he turned round to face the remaining three mercs he looked indifferent to the hellish fight that he had just endured. Taking one last gulp of air in an effort to cool his lungs which were burning from the exertion of the fight Jack stepped round, his face a blank mask to hide any emotion. He walked steadily towards the three mercs who stared fearfully at him, occasionally glancing at the unmoving body of their former leader before glancing back at Jack with a disbelieving look on their faces.

"Now are you going to tell me where your base is or do I have to beat another one of you bastards into the ground?" Jack stared into each of the mercs eyes but none held his gaze for very long before they averted their gaze. Jack's suppressed the urge to sigh in relief as none of the mercs opted to fight him, the abuse he had taken in the past month had taken a toll on his body and he wasn't in any condition to fight. Hell at the end of that last one he was running on adrenaline fumes, it was taken an immense effort not to collapse in front of these mercs.

"We'll…we'll tell you whatever you want to know sir…just don't hurt us sir"

"Then where is your fucking base, what are its defences, weaknesses, number of defenders? Talk. Now. Quickly before I change my mind about the beating."


	27. Chapter 27

"Shit Sarah, this place is damn well fortified. There's no way just the three of us can take this place. We'd be shot down by the snipers before we even got close." Sarah scowled at Glade, angry because her old friend was right; the old Temple of the Union base was all but impenetrable if they utilized a direct assault as she originally planned. She had been here once before, with _him, _back in the days when _he _had been friends with the Brotherhood and all had seemed right with the world. Scowling once more she shook the nostalgic thoughts away and refocused on the Bloodclaws' base as she put her keen military mind to working out a way to get inside and slaughter the bastards.

The Gate had been reinforced since she had last been here, sandbags surrounded the inside forming a small redoubt behind which the defenders could take cover behind as an attacking force attempted to break down the heavily locked gate. The ceiling above this 'kill zone' had been removed allowing more defenders to shoot downwards onto any attackers who stormed the main gate. A direct assault on the gate would just mean that the three of them would be shot like fish in a barrel, if indeed they made that far as a barrage of shots from the rooftop would be likely to take its toll before Sarah, Glade and Gallows even had the chance to return fire.

"No we can't" Sarah grudgingly agreed turning back to face Glade, ducking down below rocky outcrop taking in Glades dishevelled appearance who like the rest of them was still in their dirty, battered leather armour. There had been no time to change, Sarah told herself half heartedly, not because she had been unwilling to step into _his_ house. Because of this they were still wearing the crappy leather armour that made the three of them look like a bunch of poor, desperate mercenaries. A evil smile crept onto Sarah's face as an idea leaped into her head, a way she'd be able to get her revenge on the damn Bloodclaws, save the Brotherhood and try to bury all those feelings and emotions that had raged in her since _he _had died.

"Alright listen up boys, I have a plan"

* * *

"New Recruit's eh?" An old merc sneered as he inspected Sarah, Glade and Gallows; the three of them had managed to convince the guards at the gate that they were desperate mercenaries who wanted to sign up with the Bloodclaws. Despite the smoothness of their infiltration Sarah still felt uneasy, the smirks and grins that were being sent their way by the other Bloodclaw mercenaries who were milling about on the second the floor were making her feel uneasy and she couldn't help but edge her hand closer to 10mm pistol that was slung on her hip. Casting a quick glance at Glade she could see that he also felt ill at ease, she could see his right hand clenched tightly betraying his anxiety.

"You don't look like much to me" The merc continued "If I had my way then I'd have kicked you out on your arses but fortunately for you the commander's ordered that every potential recruit be given a trial to discover how loyal the cause they really are. It's a simple test really." The man grinned evilly at this point "We throw the three of you in a pit with a knife; the survivor gets to serve in our company. Now usually we only do it one on one but we're willing to make an exception just this once."

Sarah hissed in surprise at the old merc's words and she whipped out her pistol hoping to take the old man hostage and somehow get the three of them out there. Not that was likely; she grimaced as the three of them were standing right in the middle of the makeshift kill zone that the Bloodclaws had prepared. But the Bloodclaws had obviously seen people try to use this tactic before as the old merc leapt back smartly, pulling his own pistol out of its holster. As he leapt back the metallic clicks of safeties been turned off and cocking handles being ripped back filled the air confirming to Sarah that they were now surrounded like fish in a barrel, dozens of weapons aimed squarely at them. Swearing angrily she dropped her weapon to the floor, hearing the clatters as Glade and Gallows followed suite.

"Search 'em boys" The old merc cackled happily as he shoved his pistol back into his holster, the laugh revealing old yellowed teeth. "Then lock 'em up. We'll have some entertainment for the commander and the rest of the boys when they get back tomorrow" Sarah felt a surge of hope at the mercenaries words, if they were going to imprisoned for a day then it would give her the chance to hatch an escape plan. That hope was quickly crushed by the merc's next words who smirked at Sarah as if he had read her mind "And lock 'em separately, don't want the new bloods hatching any escape plans now do we."

Hanging her head resignedly Sarah didn't react as the boorish mercenaries groped her as they searched her for any hidden weaponry. She had failed the Brotherhood, she had failed to save the wasteland and most importantly to her she had failed to avenge _him_.

* * *

Jack panted heavily, his lungs burning as he dragged the cold night into his lungs, as he ran steadily across the wasteland focusing solely on stepping on his left foot, then his right hoping that he wouldn't trip and injure his ankle. His body ached but he refused to slow his pace aware that he needed to reach the temple of the union before Sarah got herself into any serious trouble. If what Gob had told him was true then Sarah was thinking straight, her grief and anger could make her decisions that weren't completely sensible. So he ignored the pain that his battered, injured body emanated and forced himself to run on as he had since the morning of that day. His guards ran spread out around him, their fresher and healthier state allowing them to move more stealthily.

His throat was burning and Jack reached down to grab the bottle of aqua pura that sloshed about on his waist. Unscrewing the cap with his teeth before spitting it away, Jack gulped down what was left in the bottle. He savoured the cold water running down his throat, the cold night air had left the water cold and refreshing. He stumbled slightly as the ground dropped suddenly and the bottle flew out of his hand as he waved his arms in windmill motion to steady himself. He swore softly and returned his concentration to his feet, every step carrying him closer and closer to the Temple of the Union. Jack just hoped he'd be in a fit state fight, well not any worse than he already was at least. He felt a gentle pull on his arm as he was guided slightly to the right by one of his companions, he let himself be moved aware that with his left eye swollen shut he could not always see obstacles until he ran into them. Glancing at his pip boy he groaned inwardly, it was 3am but from his location they were still a good ten hours away from the Temple of the Union, which was if they managed to keep this pace. No, Jack corrected himself, if he managed to keep this pace up, if his body didn't shutdown before they made it.

* * *

"Wake up bitch the commander's here, 'im and the boys are waiting for the show" He leered at Sarah's breast with a hungry look in his eyes before continuing "Hope you win the fight, you'd be a real morale raiser…if you know what I mean" The merc added menacingly as he leaned against the door frame waiting for her to get up.

Sarah climbed to her feet quickly, one of the benefits of the military life being the ability to sleep anywhere, even on the stone floor of an old storeroom, and awaken without any signs of sluggishness. She stumbled slightly as her guard shoved her impatiently out of the cell where two more guards waited for her, evidently the Bloodclaws knew how to handle a prisoner effectively and they were not giving her an opportunity to lash out and try to incapacitate her guards. She was escorted downstairs where she was surprised to see that a ring had been erected in what had been the kill zone. The 'ring' was a square area walled by sandbags that reached up to Sarah's waist, kneeling inside the ring glaring defiantly at the mercenaries that lined the ring and sat on edges of the hole that was placed above the kill zone and now acted as a viewing area for whatever was about to come.

As she was forced to kneel alongside her friends, Sarah noticed that the concrete floor was stained red across the ring's area and there were red splatters on the sandbags. Sarah clenched her fists and resolved that if she was going to die here that she would take some of these sadistic bastards with her. What she was definitely not going to do was fight her friends, she would rather hurl herself at the mercenaries and if they put a weapon in her hands that was exactly what was she was going to do.

"Shut it yew fuckin' sons of whores, the boss wants to speak" Sarah blood ran cold as she heard the whiny, raspy voice that she had thought she would never have to hear again when she parted company with Lucky Harith. Glancing around wildly for the source of the noise she noticed the crowd above her part as two people came forward to stand at the edge.

"Well fuck me if it the ain't the pretty bitch" Dez whistled as he gazed malevolently at Sarah licking his cracked lips as he stared at her, for the first time since she had been captured Sarah felt the ice cold stab of fear course through her body, realising that death might not be what the mercenaries had plans for her.

"You know her sergeant?" The man next to Dez asked in a rumbling deep voice, his one mud brown eye staring steadily at her. The other was milky white, most likely from the scar that ran down the right side of his face starting from his the outermost corner of the eye and going down to the corner of the mouth and inch wide at is peak.

"Yeah Commander, she was on the caravan with me, I was pretty fucking suspicious of her though" Dez had to look up to look at the Commander's face, the man towering above, Sarah guessed that he was a couple of inches over 6ft. He seemed to dwarf Dez a large death claw pelt draped over the shoulders of his metal armour made him remind Sarah of the pictures of Grognak the barbarian that she had read when she was a child.

"You were right to be suspicious of her" Another voice spoke from the crowd. No Sarah thought desperately, it can't be. She didn't like the man but she never thought that he would betray the Brotherhood, especially not to a bunch of savage 'locals' as he had called them. As Knight Artemis stepped forward in his Brotherhood power armour Sarah couldn't help but gasp before screaming out, venting her fury against the fucking traitor.

"You fucking bastard, you turd faced, crotch licking, super mutant loving, piece of shit traitor. You don't deserve to wear that armour" Artemis stared at her disdainfully but chose not reply to her words instead turning to talk the Commander who still stared, unreadable , at Sarah.

"She's a member of the Brotherhood, daughter of the Elder in fact, though both her and her companions have been exiled…for helping the Wanderer escape." Now the Commander's head jerked away from Sarah to stare at Artemis.

"Well fuck me" Dez whistled "We should _drill _her for information, have some fun then sell her back for a bit of cash if you ask me Commander"

"Do it. Artemis, come with me. Our employer requests our presence and I would hate to disappoint them." He and Artemis turned to leave, but paused before he strode away "And Dez, make sure that the men get some entertainment as well, don't be selfish." With his final comment he turned and walked away, heading for the roof of the compound.

"Me selfish? Never sir" Dez cackled evilly as he jumped down to ring, rubbing his hands as he approached Sarah, who stared horrified at the hungry look in the man's eyes. The surrounding mercenaries cheers, roars and taunts had reached a deafening crescendo, so loud that Sarah could not even hear what Glade was roaring though she saw him straining to free himself from his captors, the veins in his neck bulging as he roared something at the approaching Dez. Even the emotionless Gallows looked incensed as he too strained against the mercenaries pinning him to the ground. She felt a tear run down her face as she realised how badly she had treated them, despite them being so steadfastly loyal, her tears flowing at the regret that she had left so many things unsaid as well as the realisation that she was going to raped horribly, repeatedly until she was a shell of her former self.

"Not so brave now are you bitch?" Dez smirked as he delivered a stinging slap to Sarah's face. "Go on cry, I like it when my women cry." Sarah growled and spat at him angrily, hoping he'd lash out and kill her, which was all she wanted now, to die and join _him_ in heaven. But the tears began to flow again as she realised that this monster was going to brutally take her virginity. Dez yelled out intelligibly as he wiped the spittle from his face before lashing out with the knife that he held in his right hand.

The knife did not slash her throat open, instead ripping through her leather armour and the underwear underneath that all the way down to her waist. The knife, expertly wielded, did not touch her skin and so her body was left untouched as Dez ripped the gap open to reveal her white, perky round breasts to the room. The cheers were deafening and she struggled in vain to cover herself as the two men holding her wrenched her arms back and showed to the room, turning in a small circle. Sarah closed her eyes desperately trying to ignore the cat calls and animalistic gazes that seemed to stab into her like daggers.

When she opened them again, Dez was fumbling with his pants with one hand, the other gesturing to pin Sarah on the ground. She tried to fight back but the men holding her were too strong, their knees on her back forcing her to sob into the ground. Through the jeers and roars of anticipation she almost didn't hear the gunshot ring out…almost.

The weight on her shoulders disappeared, and she felt a body thump to the ground beside her, the room was eerily silent and the fear could be felt throughout the room. Wondering what had happened, if perhaps her father had found her she glanced up to see who had shot one of the men pinning her to the ground. And Sarah's heart leapt.

Because in far side of the ring stood a man, 6ft tall, of medium build. He wore green combat armour, black boots and a red baseball cap was jammed onto his head though strands of chestnut brown hair poked out from beneath the brim. He held a magnum .44 revolver in his right hand, the barrel aiming forward to a point just above her. The Lone Wanderer stood unafraid in the doorway; his face was horribly battered and beaten but that seemed only increase the fearfulness of the expression of rage that was etched across his features. It even half made Sarah afraid so she could only imagine how the mercenaries were feeling.

"Kill 'im" She heard Dez yell out, trying to galvanise the shocked crowd who began to react slowly as though coming out of a daze but _he _was quicker his left hand whipping out in am arc round the room throwing several things into the crowd but Sarah could not make out what through her watery eyes. It became obvious want he had thrown however as explosions ripped through the room and the chaos started. The Wanderer had somehow managed to smuggle allies into the crowd and they began to attack, worsening the panic and disorder created by the grenades. His left hand whipped out again and threw something towards Gallows and Glade, who were suddenly on their feet, firing handguns into another section of the crowd as they charged towards the disorientated mercenaries who up till a moment ago had been having the time of their lives.

Now the Wanderer advanced revolver in one hand, a combat knife in the other, dealing death as he cut a bloody swath towards Dez who looked terrified as he watched a legend of the wasteland effortlessly cut through any mercenary who stood in his way. Sarah saw a handful rallying behind him, preparing to fire_. _Sarah snarled angrily, they were not going to kill him just as she had got him back. Yanking the assault rifle of her erstwhile captors back she opened fire on the bastards who scampered back in cover. Glancing round for Dez, she saw him rallying another corner and thoughts of revenge began to dominate her mind.

"Help" Glade's cry made her turn reluctantly to see Glade desperately trying to stop knife from being plunged downwards into his throat. His aggressor sat astride Glade's midriff as he leaned all his weight onto the blade which dropped ever lower. Friend's first, enemies second Sarah reminded herself reluctantly as she fired the last few rounds in her rifle into the man's chest allowing Glade to throw him off. Jack had better kill that bastard, she thought furiously as she looked around for a new weapon.

* * *

The fury at seeing Sarah pinned to the ground and about to be raped had filled Jack with rage, a rage that flowed through his veins eliminating any feeling of pain or weariness as he hurled himself at the animals in front of him. He did not care about the minor wounds he sustained as he fought his way through the crowd, trying tor each the man who had been directing the whole fucking thing. He hoped that he had arrived before they had done anything to Sarah but he couldn't be sure and the fury at his perceived failure just fuelled his anger.

Jack fired a bullet at point blank range into one man's head before ramming his knife into a second's eye socket. A third tried to rush him in his blind spot but while the knife was embedded in the second's skull but the heavy revolver cracked his skull open as a knife scraped against his armour, the cheap switch blade unable to pierce his armour. Then he was through and that weasel of man was in front of him at last. He lifted his revolver and pulled the trigger but a metallic click signified that he was out of ammo. He shrugged and dropped the weapon transferring the combat knife to his right hand; the knife would be slower anyway. The man's face had twisted in fear as the gun was raised but he seemed to have gained some confidence when he realised that it would be a knife fight. The way he handled the knife he had pulled from his belt betrayed an expertise with it.

"I'm going to gut you Wanderer, glad you decided to play fair. After I'm done with you I'll go finish the job with your Sarah over there. Those tits really were nice though." Jack growled rushed forward recklessly his body only brushing Dez's as the man sidestepped him

"Fuck fighting fair, I'm beat up, tired and you just tried to rape the women I love. I'm just going to fucking shoot you and then most likely collapse unconscious"

"Shoot me, with what?" Dez sneered. The two were staring at each other as they circled, unaware that the fighting had stopped as the onlookers watched the two men duel. Jack just grinned back and brandished a 9mm handgun. Dez's eyes went wide as his hand rushed to his now empty holster.

"ha fucking ha" Jack smiled as he pulled the trigger empting the clip into Dez's body. As Dez collapsed on the ground all the anger and adrenaline seemed to flood out of Jack's body as well. The last month seemed to have finally caught up with him as his vision began to black out and he fell to the ground. The last thing he heard was a female screaming

"JACK!"


	28. Chapter 28

Jack hurt. His whole body seemed to ache; every inch of him throbbed with a dull pain, it was almost enough to make him want to slip into unconsciousness again. He almost cried out in pain as he shifted slightly, the dull pain turning into a burning one as his muscles screamed in protest at the slight moment. Again the thought of slipping back in peaceful, painless oblivion of unconsciousness tempted him. The soft mattress he was laying on and the warm blankets made his eyelids seem so heavy, surely it wouldn't be too bad if he just rested his eyes for a few moments. No, Jack told himself firmly, who knows what had happened since he had killed Dez. Shit how was Sarah? He berated himself furiously for the thought not occurring to him sooner and steeled himself for the wave of pain that was about to assail him.

Baby steps, he needed to take baby steps if he was going to do this. Slowly Jack opened his right eye, surprised at the lack of pain, it most be the only part of my body that isn't injured almost laughing at he thought. He wasn't looking forward to the left eye however, if he could even open it that was, it had been swollen shut during the fight at the Temple of the Union. He was shocked by how easily it opened, how long had he been unconscious? He really needed to get up and find out what was happening, how long he'd been out and where the hell he was. He tried to sit up slowly but the rush of pain made him abandon the effort before he had even lifted his head an inch of the pillow. He groaned as he his body relaxed back into the mattress but cut the groan off abruptly as even that action caused him pain.

Oh screw it, Jack thought furiously, he couldn't waste any more time just lying around in bed. Steeling himself for the oncoming onslaught of pain, Jack sat up quickly cursing loudly at the pain as his muscles screamed in protest at the movement. Biting back further outburst Jack gritted his teeth and propped himself up on the bed, looking around at his surroundings as he waited for the pain to subside so he could attempt to get out of the bed.

The room was clean, which seemed to immediately rule out any of the rooms that he had ever been since he left the vault. He definitely wasn't in a vault though as it was one of the generic pre war house's though the interior seemed to have been transformed to be a medical facility of some sort. He could see an operating table in the far corner; hopefully he hadn't had to have been on that. The dark red paint on the walls was peeling slightly but it seemed to be a good repair. Overall it seemed like a decent medical facility which made Jack curious as to why he hadn't been there before.

Right, he told himself, time to get out of bed and find someone who knew where the hell he was and more importantly where the hell Sarah was. Again his body protested at the movement but he managed to swing his legs to the side of bed so that his feet were now resting on the cold wooden floor. Now he just had to hope that his legs could support his weight, apparently getting out bed would be a lot harder than he had anticipated.

A crash and the sound of china breaking distracted him from his mental preparations and he looked up to see a beaming Sarah, tears running down her cheeks as she stared at him for a few seconds before she rushed towards him ignoring the broken plate on floor as she hurled herself at him gripping him tightly in a hug as she sobbed into his chest, soaking his t-shirt. Jack bit back the cry of pain as crashed into him not wanting to make her feel guilty and hugged her back just as tightly the pain vanishing as he held her in his arms. For the first time in a long time he felt like someone actually cared about him, Jack, not the Lone Wanderer. Any ideas about pushing her away vanished and he just hugged her tighter, not caring that his ribs were aching.

* * *

For once Sarah didn't care that she was crying in front of another person, she was just happy to be where she was, curled up in bed with Jack. The shock of seeing him awake and moving had gotten to her temporarily and all she had been able to do was grab him and pray that it wasn't a dream. When the shock had worn off she had gently reprimanded him for getting up and insisted that he go back to bed. Jack had complained half heartedly but she could see he was still exhausted and it had been easy enough coax back under the duvet. Her cheeks flushed slightly as she remembered him pulling her in with him, insisting that he wasn't going to let her out of his sight anytime soon. Not that Sarah was complaining, she had been dreaming of this ever since she'd lost him, just lying with him, resting her head his chest and feeling his arm round her waist.

Jack had fallen asleep quickly but Sarah hadn't wanted to move from his arms, she felt safe there. She knew it was a cliché hut what did she care, it was true, she could handle herself sure but she had only ever felt truly safe twice in her life. The first was when she was a child, sitting with her father, who had seemed strong and invincible when he had been a young man in his power armour. This moment, lying with Jack, it was the only other time she had felt truly safe. She had been having nightmares over the past week since Jack had rescued her from the Bloodclaws' base and this had been the first night that they hadn't troubled her.

She groaned softly as she realised that Jack was unaware that he had been unconscious for seven whole days, she'd have her work cut out keeping him in bed while he recovered enough for them to continue the investigation. Still, Sarah thought determinedly, there was no way he was getting out of the room until he was fully recovered. She hadn't managed to get much out of his four strange companions but the one who called himself 'Sword' had told her all that Jack had been through since parting company with Gallows and she was well aware that he had driven himself so hard to find her, almost killing himself in the process. Sarah wasn't about to let him get into another fight without her at his side and him fully recovered.

Gallows and Glade, along with two of Jack's mysterious companions had already made their way back to the Temple of the Union in an effort to discover where the Commander and Artemis had disappeared to. One stood outside Jacks' room constantly on guard and the final one, Sword, followed Sarah when ever she had left the room, apparently Jack had ordered him to keep her safe. It was getting annoying but right now she was so happy so see Jack that she was willing to forgive him the over protectiveness for a little while.

It was early morning, usually when Sarah began to get up and exercise a routine she had kept since she had been an initiate in the Brotherhood … but on the other hand she really didn't want to get out of bed, Sarah's eyes began to droop, the feelings of safety and warmth gently lulling her back to sleep, pulling herself tighter to Jack's warm mass Sarah closed her eyes and drifted off, happy just to lie in bed and do nothing for the first time in her life.

* * *

"Seven whole days?" Jack exclaimed exasperated

"Yes Jack, seven. More than six, less than seven" Sarah teased gently; this was the third time in a row Jack had asked the question. Jack was still in bed though she had finally managed to drag herself out of the bed when Glade and Gallows had arrived back in order to hear their report. She wasn't embarrassed but she was pretty sure that she wasn't as authoritative a figure when she was curled up in bed. After hearing their report and discussing their next steps Sarah had immediately headed back to the Doctor's clinic. She stood by the bed now, ready to push Jack back down when he inevitably tried to get up.

"That's too damn long for me to have just sat in bed I need to…" Jack attempted rise but his efforts were stopped by her gentle but firm hand on his chest, which pushed him back down.

"No Jack, you're not ready to be up and about. The Doctor says if you do you could do yourself some real harm. She's amazed you haven't done so already."

"I haven't even met this Doctor" Jack grumbled as he attempted to rise once again

"Yes you have" Sarah smirked slyly, and then she quickly began to speak as soon as she saw Jack open his mouth again "No I can't tell you, she wants it to be a surprise"

"Well fine" Jack huffed "But I am not staying in bed while some maniac wanders round the wasteland doing god knows what to god knows who" He began to sit up resisting the push of Sarah hands despite the pain it was obviously causing him. Growling at his stubbornness Sarah jumped onto the bed and straddled his hips, her weight pushing Jack back down onto the mattress once again.

"Oh no you don't" Sarah purred "I am not letting you…" Jack cut her off abruptly by pressing his mouth to hers, kissing her fiercely. When he stopped he rested his forehead against Sarah's as he stared into her eyes, blue meeting brown. "Well" Sarah stammered slightly flustered, a slight flush building on her cheeks "The doctor didn't say anything about this." She kissed him back hungrily, loosing all traces of self consciousness as she lost herself in his taste, his smell, and the feel of him pressed hard against her. As she pushed him back down to the mattress, never breaking the kiss, a very happy thought crossed her mind. Maybe it wouldn't be so hard to keep Jack in bed after all.


	29. Chapter 29

Glade hid the smile that threatened to creep onto his face as he watched Sarah brief himself, Gallows, Jack and his four guards on the investigation thus far. Sarah was still reluctant to allow Jack to leave his room which had meant that Glade and Gallows had been ordered to pull a large dining table into the room so that Sarah could lay out a map as well as other important items, such as Boston's notebook and documents recovered from the Temple of the Union.

Glade hadn't been able to rest much recently himself though he didn't envy Jack who seemed to be going stir crazy locked away in the medical facility, the man wasn't called the Lone Wanderer because he liked to sit at home and a read a book. The poor guy hadn't even been told that they were in Canterbury Commons; Sarah was worried that their close proximity to the D.C. would make Jack even more adamant that he needed to be up about.

A smile threatened to break onto his face yet again he caught Sarah throwing yet another worried glance in Jack's direction. The man in question looked fine to Glade's eyes but both Sarah and the doctor disagreed with him, Glade was pretty sure if even brought up allowing Jack to roam free that Sarah would rip him a new one.

"I'm pretty sure that the problem is worse than you guys know" Jack was talking now, he looked relaxed but Glade could see that he was gripping the table tightly as he spoke. "The Commander and Artemis" Jack spat the names out, his contempt for the two men evident "left in a vertibird…one with enclave markings"

"His betrayal is worse than we thought" Glade murmured bitterly, he could see similar emotions of fury and disbelief etched across the faces of his Brotherhood comrades faces. It was hard to stomach that one their brothers, even one as unpopular as Artemis, could have become a traitor working for their oldest enemy.

"Which means that we need to move" Jack had slowly eased himself into a leading role in the meeting, looking and sounding more like his old self. "We need to find out who is behind this plot and end what ever fucked up game they are playing, then we need to gather everyone we can and put an end to this super mutant threat permanently. Glade, did you get any intel on where the rats fled to?"

"Yeah" Glade swallowed nervously and looked beseechingly at Sarah, he really didn't want to tell Jack what the documents they had recovered at the Temple of the Union said.

"Jack" Sarah took over, speaking in a quiet soothing tone, reaching over to place her hand over his "From what information we found, and there's no doubt that it's correct, they retreated to Vault 101."

"What?" A look of panic momentarily appeared on Jack's face, but it was quickly replaced with his Wanderer mask within seconds. "Well what are we waiting around here for? I need to get back there. I need to…"

"You need to rest" Sarah cut him off firmly, moving round the table to block Jack off from the door which he glanced at longingly, the urge to charge out and save the day was plain on his face.

"I can't just sit here and do nothing while those bastards are doing who knows what in my home" Jack was almost shouting, just managing to keep his anger in check as he faced Sarah.

"And I can't just sit here and watch you kill yourself trying to save everyone. I won't watch it Jack, do you have any idea how painful it is for me to watch you kill yourself. I…I just can't Jack" Sarah was yelling back now, a solitary tear spilling down her cheek as she did so. Glade shifted awkwardly edging towards the door, even Gallows and the rest of the human statues seemed slightly uncomfortable at the situation unfolding before them.

"I can't just sit here" Jack spoke softly now, the anger seemed to flood out of him as he raised a hand to gently brush the tear of Sarah's cheek.

"A day? No two?" Sarah pleaded; her blue's shining with unshed tears. Jack wanted to go immediately but as he stared back, almost drowning in those sapphire orbs, he found that he could no longer speak. He could only nod his acceptance, rationalising that they needed time to prepare for the coming battles. Weapons needed to be cleaned and oiled; the dry dust of the wasteland could cause even the most meticulously cleaned weapon to jam if it was not regularly cleaned. Ammo needed to be bought, the bullets hand loaded into the magazines, each individual casing checked for flaws or damage. A stoppage at the wrong moment could be the difference between life and death, a fact Jack could personally attest to. His free hand moved unconsciously to his stomach tracing the edge an old bullet wound through the thin t-shirt.

It had been in the early days of his wasteland wanderings when he had still been learning how to survive in the wasteland. Helping Moira with the Wasteland Survival Guide had seemed like a good idea at the time, a way to learn how to survive while making a few caps on the side. He had headed into an old pre war supermarket looking for food, water and medicine when he had been attacked by raiders who had apparently set up a camp inside. The years of hunting radroaches with his old BB gun had paid off, after a long fire fight that raged through the ruined shopping aisles like some perverse version of hide and seek Jack had managed to finish off the last raider or so he had believed. One had burst out of the bathroom as he passed by, firing a rusty old assault rifle from the hip, spraying bullets in a wide arc as he stormed out. One caught Jack, the force of the shot hurling him into the shelves, knocking his rifle from his hand and burying it under the tin cans that cascaded down from the shelf.

The raider had smiled, showing rotten, brown stumps of teeth as he raised his rifle again to finish Jack off, only for the rusty old gun to fail to fire. That had bought Jack time to rip the old 10mm pistol from his belt and slam a couple of rounds into the raider's torso killing the man outright. Luckily for Jack there had been a pharmacy in the old supermarket and, thanks to his Dad's insistence that he help out in the Vault's clinic, he had been able to patch himself up before stumbling back to Moira. But the lesson that always stuck in his mind from that near death experience had been that no matter how good you are if you don't look after your weapon then it won't look after you. It had also told him that he needed to spend some those hard earned caps on a decent set of armour.

Speaking of which, Jack thought as he glanced at the shoddy leather armour that Glade was wearing, that was another set of things that needed to be bought before they set out.

"Ok, ok" Jack held up his hands in a gesture of surrender "I suppose we do need a couple of days to prepare"

""I know that" Sarah stuck out her tongue at him "I was leading missions when you were still chilling in the vault" She grinned cheekily as she teased him

"Oh yeah" Jack smiled back sheepishly; it was easy to forget that a beautiful, kind, sexy woman like Sarah was also one of the deadliest soldiers in the wasteland.

"So you don't need to up be and about then do you?"

"Well…um…I need to clean my weapons"

"Which you can do in bed" Sarah said firmly

"Yes mom" Jack muttered, his voice dripping with sarcasm, apparently Sarah had taken on that role as well as being his girlfriend.

"Are you sure you want to call me that?" Sarah asked sultrily as she steered him towards the bed "I mean after all of the…_things_ we have got up to recently"

"I don't know" Jack spoke as he pushed Sarah down onto the bed "My memory might need refreshing"

"Oh really?"

"Yeah" Jack glanced around quickly to make sure the others had departed before leaning down and kissing her, softy at first but as the passion grew he began to kiss harder, occasionally wandering to kiss her neck gently, encouraged by the gentle moans that emerged involuntarily from Sarah's throat.

"I think we could manage that" Sarah managed to gasp out before pulling Jack's head back towards her so she could claim his lips once more.

* * *

"Shore up that damn barricade" Paladin Gunny yelled, his voice hoarse and ragged from his constant shouting. A handful of power armoured knights rushed to obey him adding their firepower to that of the beleaguered defenders of the barricade. It was a piss poor excuse for a barricade, Gunny thought sourly as he scanned the rest of the perimeter under his command for any more signs of weakness, the reserve force stood behind him shifting nervously, anxious to join the fight. The 'barricade' was in fact a mound of rubble, concrete blocks and metal desk that had been stacked as high as man in long jagged line that was about a mile off from the Citadel.

"First rank, relieve the knights over there" Gunny roared as he pointed off to a distant part of the barricade. The knights chorused an affirmative as they ran off, pleased to be doing something, anything was better than just standing there letting the nerves grow. Idleness was a soldier's worst enemy especially in battle; it gave them a chance to imagine all the ways that they could die, to slowly sap the courage from their hearts.

"The situations gotten FUBAR" Gunny didn't glance around recognising Paladin Tristan's gravelly tone

"Don't have to tell me, how much longer do we have to hold this area? At this rate I'll have to start sending the fucking initiates into battle. The only way they'd kill a mutie would be if the fuckers die of laughter. I mean seriously they can't shoot for shit." Tristan grunted tersely which was about as close to laughter as the dour Paladin ever got to laughter, still Gunny acknowledged the fact that the man knew how to fight a war.

"As long as we can Gunny, the Citadel is all but impenetrable but it can only hold as long as our brothers and sisters have the strength to stand on its walls. So we need to get as much food and water inside as possible." Gunny spat on the ground, snorting derisively as he did so.

"We won't have any one able to stand on the bloody walls if we keep this up. It's a shitty plan anyway Tristan and you know it. Once we get locked up in the Citadel we're trapped like goddamn rats"

"I know" Tristan sighed "but that's what the elder has ordered us to do"

"He's not in the best state of mind, Sarah turning traitor has really got to him"

"He still our leader" Tristan growled, glancing round to check that the knights behind them were not listening to the conversation.

"I know that but if when he regains his senses he's not going like the situation that we'll be in"

"I can't see another option Gunny, so just do what you can" Tristan spoke tersely before moving off back towards the Citadel, leaving Gunny to ponder what the dour Paladin had said.

"Sir" An initiate squeaked behind forcing him to stop his contemplation's as he whirled round to fix the unfortunate man with a steely glare. The man gulped, visibly terrified as he raised a shaking arm. Gunny span round again puzzled at the extreme amount of fear demonstrated by the initiate, he wasn't that scary surely.

Seconds later Gunny was wishing that he was that scary as he saw what had had the initiate so terrified. The line at one part of the barricade was buckling backwards as a surge of super mutants forced the stalwart Brotherhood defenders to step backwards as the howling bloodthirsty mutants howled, swinging sledgehammers, bits of rebar and even hunting rifles. What little common sense they possessed had been lost as they became incensed with battle rage. Only the heavy power armour of the knights had prevented the mutants from smashing their way through the perimeter and turning the battle into a rout.

"Every man except the last rank, follow me" Gunny roared as he raised his power sledge up so that he could kiss the topmost part as a gesture of luck. "Blood and steel" He yelled as he charged towards the disintegrating line, the men roaring as they followed him into battle. Senior knights remained level headed as they charged, moving their sections to shore up different parts of the line so that when the reinforcements struck they reinforced the whole line instead of charging in a losse mass to one part.

Gunny's sledgehammer pulverised the head of one mutant as he joined the battle, red super mutant blood spattering his armour. Seeing that he was alone he stepped forward swinging his sledge in a wide arc, forcing the mutants in front of him to step back and buying time for the rest of his men to surge into the gaps. The mass of super mutants before them made aiming unnecessary, the arriving knights blasted from the hip, like the cowboys from the old pre-war holo-tapes, as they charged in to bolster the line.

Gunny killed two more mutants before he stepped back into the second rank of soldiers to catch his breath and survey the rest of the battle. They were holding for now but with the rapidly dwindling reserves another surge could rip through their lines. He glanced around looking for one of the lightly armoured initiates who scrambled round the battle delivering ammo to those who were running low. He grabbed the scruff of one who dashed past and roared into their ear, the noise of the battle forcing him to do so in order to make himself heard.

"Run to Tristan. Tell him we can't hold any longer and that we are going to conduct a fighting retreat" He pushed the initiate away, allowing the girl to stumble away to carry out his orders. He repeated the action with three more initiates sending them to the other commanders so that the whole perimeter would move back at roughly the same time.

After giving his messengers a few minutes to deliver their messages gunny decided that enough time had passed. His voice, honed by years of berating unfortunate initiates, rose above the crescendo of battle.

"Fighting retreat, odds first" He yelled, listening satisfied as the senior knights repeated his order so that his whole command heard the order. The odd numbered sections would fall back 30 or so yards before forming their own line, then the even numbered sections would repeated the action. Gunny stayed with the even numbered sections, the fight suddenly becoming more desperate as the super mutants saw the line weakening and hurled themselves with renewed vigour.

Gunny swung his sledge hammer, his power armour enhanced strength making his swings lethal. As he shattered a super mutant's knee cap he risked a backwards glance to check if the odds were in position.

"Fall back" He shouted, seeing the odds formed up, gaps left in the line for the evens to funnel trough. "Stay in your fucking sections maggots" He added, his orders echoed by the section commanders. He attached himself to a nearby section as the Brotherhood knights emptied their weapons into the heaving super mutants ranks, halting their momentum and giving them the chance to sprint for the safety of their comrades line, desperately trying to keep ahead of the keep ahead of the pack of super mutants whose greatest wish was to rip them limb from limb. They poured through the gaps in the line which were the hurriedly filled as the last men raced through.

The process was repeated over and over, the dead were stripped over ammo and weaponry before being left were they fell, the injured were dragged unceremoniously, their screams of agony ignored as those carrying them desperately tried not be left behind. As they slowly moved inwards they linked up with the other companies, synchronizing their movements, men threw back desperate glancing gauging the distance to the safety of the Citadel. Section commanders bawled at the men, threatening them with horrible deaths if they did not hold line, determined that the men would be more afraid of them than any super mutant.

They were close to the main gate, perhaps a hundred yards way when a salvo of fire poured into the super mutant ranks from the walls of the citadel. Glancing up it seemed to Gunny that Tristan had lined every man, woman and child who could hold a gun on the wall and ordered them to fire into the endless ranks of mutants who swarmed around the increasingly desperate line of knights who had resorted to clubbing the mutants with the stocks of their rifles until they had time to reload.

"Run for it" Tristan's voice could be heard over the din of battle. The men poured away, dashing for the gate, Tristan's order releasing them to do what they had been longing to do which was run for the safety of the Citadel's imposing walls.

Gunny lingered behind determined to be the last inside, shoving those who slowed forward, unwilling to leave a man behind. Though some part of him knew that not all could be saved, those who fell to the super mutant horde's attacks might only be injured but no one was waiting to check, each man only thinking of his own survival, all discipline had melted away with the order to retreat.

Gunny was a handful of yards away when a rifle bullet smashed into the back of his right knee sending him crashing on the floor. Yelling his defiance Gunny rolled onto his back determined to take at least one more mutant with him into death's embrace. He caved in the skull of the first mutant to reach him but his sledgehammer was trapped in the smashed bone and flesh, the handle ripped from his grasp as the mutant fell away. Leaving him defenceless as a super mutant master approached, a super sledge raised above his head, ready to sweep down an pulverise Gunny. He just hoped that it would be a clean death.

Gunny closed his eyes and sent of a quick prayer as he watched the mutant approach, time seeming to slow as his death approached, the sound of battle seeming to fade. The super mutant stepped up to him, bearing his teeth in a grotesque approximation of smile, Gunny blinked involuntarily as he imagined the hammer smashing into his chest, when his eyes opened again the master was disintegrating, the sledgehammer falling into the pile of ash that gathered on the floor. Before he could act arms were grabbing his and dragging him the last few feet through the gate which crashed down behind him. Sighing in relief Gunny closed his eyes and fervently thanked every god he could think of for answering his prayers though he reflected ruefully that, trapped as he was in the Citadel, he may not live much longer.


	30. Chapter 30

**Sorry it took so long, been so busy lately and so my pace has ground to a halt. Hopefully i'll have a new chapter up soon. Thank you for the reviews and the constructive criticism, I've listened to it all and as the story goes on I will attempt to address it.**

Jack gritted his teeth, ignoring the flaring pain from his protesting muscles, as he finished a set of push ups. He lay on his back and began to perform sit ups, wincing slightly at the feel of the cold wooden floor on his bare skin. He had cleaned his rifle, his revolver and sharpened his knife, he had done the same so many times that he finished quicker than he would have preferred. Faced with more indeterminable waiting Jack had elected to give himself a workout, training muscles that had been unused since the fight at the Temple of the Union.

Despite the protests of his still tender body it felt good to work out, Jack reflected, though perhaps a large part of it was the fact that the strain and focus required to work through the pain meant that he could not think about the fact that those power armoured, xenophobic, fascist enclave bastards were doing god knows what in his home. Vault 101. The place where he had grown up and a place he had tried so hard to forget, the happy memories he had once had soured by the passage of time.

There was a long list of reasons why Jack wanted to wipe all memories of Vault 101 from his mind. The number one reason was that Jack had been happy there, he had believed that he could build a life there, work in his father's clinic, raise a family never having to worry about anything serious than fixing a fellow vault dwellers broken leg. That dream had been shattered the day that his father had left the vault and the overseer had ordered Jack's capture and 'questioning'. As he had made his escape he had been yelled at, insulted and threatened by people he had lived his whole life alongside, people had counted as friends, people he would have trusted with his life.

The only reason that he had not lost it completely when he had been forced to flee the vault had been Amata. At the mention of _her _name Jack growled angrily, increasing the tempo of his sit-ups hoping that the burn of his protesting muscles would drive thoughts of _her _from his mind. He hadn't thought about her in a long time, he had refused to think about her. She had hurt him so badly when he had been forced to leave the vault for the second and final time.

The sit ups weren't working, Jack decided furiously, leaping to his feet and heading over to where an old water pipe acted as a pull up bar. His chest muscles were screaming in protest but Jack ignored it, taking a rapid pace hoping to drive the demons of his past from his mind, trying to forget the childish hopes that he had had before life had taught him some brutal truths

Amata, Jack couldn't help but sigh as the name flashed across her mind. Amata had been his first love, the girl he had always believed he would marry. A belief that he had kept even when he had been forced to flee the vault in search of his dad until she had shattered all those hopes and dreams and tossed him back out into a strange world alone. It had been a difficult time for Jack; his father had just been killed and the only thing that had stopped him from giving up had been the thought of returning to Amata.

He had received that distress call late one night, while he was attempting get drunk in a Brotherhood canteen. Madison Li had been preventing him from doing so, forcing him to talk about his father, his life since leaving the vault. She had sat patiently throughout the night, comforting him when he cried, reassuring him that he wasn't a evil guy for killing and coolly disarming his anger when she refused to let him drink. She had been the first person to show him such unselfish compassion since he had left the vault, in the brief time she had known him she had become like the mother he had never known. Until that night he had never even believed that he needed a mother until she had turned up, filling a void that he had never known to exist.

She had wanted him to return to Vault 101, in fact she had succeeded in convincing him to go back, to settle down and live a life free from the violent, deadly wasteland. He hadn't, Jack admitted, needed too much persuasion; memories of Amata were dragging him back there. He had truly believed that the two of them could've built a life together.

He had been a stupid child, Jack thought bitterly, and his illusions of a quiet life in the vault had been shattered when, after he had saved the whole fucking vault by averting a damn civil war, she had asked…no ordered him to leave the vault…his home. Jack closed his eyes willing the tears that threatened to spill down his cheeks away.

Jack sighed wishing that she, Dr. Lee that was, was here with him. He really needed to open to, someone to whom he could pour out all those feelings of regret, anguish and fear without being afraid of their reaction. He couldn't do that to Sarah because some of those fears were about Sarah, how could they build a life together when her 'family' hated him. He was the Lone Wanderer for fuck's sake , his life was hardly conducive to raising a family.

He froze in the middle of his exercise, straining to hear if footsteps were approaching his room, although he believed he was perfectly healthy he knew that Sarah would disagree. Dropping down Jack scrambled across to the room to his bed and dived under the covers, assuming an expression of angelic innocence as the door creaked open, for a smiling Madison Li to step into the room.

Jack's mouth dropped open in disbelief, the shock numbed him for a few seconds before he could fully process who had walked in the door. Before he could process what was happening she had closed the distance and pulled him into close hug, telling him very sternly not to even think about getting back out of bed. Hiding his smile in her clothing Jack knew that she and Sarah must have gotten together and made a list of all the stupid things that he done recently and all the stupid things he was likely to do. And from the sounds of it the good doctor was going through the whole list one by one, starting with him attacking Adams Air Force base all by his self.

"Pfffft, I am the _lone _Wanderer. The name doesn't lend itself to leading an army." Jack replied in defence when Madison had exhausted her list of the stupid things that he had done, it had taken quite a while actually, which Jack reflected, didn't speak well for his decision making or planning skills. On that thought being shut up in a doctor's clinic should've really told him that.

"You _chose_ to be the lone wanderer, we both your ego loves that little title. How many times do I have to tell you that you don't have to singlehandedly solve the entire wasteland's problems yourself" Jack smiled sadly, he was ecstatic to see Madison again and he refused to get into this particular argument again, it always heated up alarmingly quickly.

"One more time Maddy, just like always it's one more time" he saw her open her mouth to protest and he cut her off before she could rekindle the argument. "So why the hell are you here? Last time we spoke you had decided to head off to the Commonwealth" he tried to hide the slight bitterness at the that decision. She had made the decision just as he finished putting the shattered pieces of his old life into some semblance of a new one.

"I decided I couldn't leave you alone, I knew that you'd just do something monumentally stupid, even by your standards, if I just left you to your own devices." She had released him from the hug now and was currently occupying Sarah's seat by the bedside. The occasional glares she was shooting Jack's way were an indication that she wanted him to lie down again but Jack was steadfastly refusing, it made him feel like an invalid. He cracked into another smile at her words which soothed the raw feelings of abandonment that had torn at him since she had left.

"I haven't done anything..."

"Were you listening to the very _long_ list I just recited" Madison glared at him, a mocking smile telling Jack that she wasn't angry…well she might've have been a little bit. Life had taught him that the people who cared about him were rarely impressed with his decisions.

"It's not like I purposely set out to do those things. I just see someone in trouble and I have to help. Things just seem to snowball and before I know it I'm in the middle of a super mutant infested vault." Jack whined, putting on a pouty sad face to deflect the anger that he was sure was lurking behind those kindly eyes.

"I know Jack" Madison sighed, a sad look passing over her face "It's both your best and your worst quality. Your father tried to lock you up in a vault to keep you out of trouble but even putting you in one of the most secure places in the wasteland couldn't stop you from managing to escape and cause all sorts of trouble." She narrowed her eyes as she noticed Jack wince almost imperceptibly at the mention of Vault 101.

"So how have you been?" Jack asked in a half hearted effort to steer the conversation away from Vault 101. He had seen the glint Madison's eyes that told him that she had seen how the reference to Vault 101 had affected him.

"Don't change the subject Jack, I'm angry enough at you as it is because of the exercises you were doing before I came in. you don't want to add hiding how you're feeling to that list as well. Don't even think about lying to me about the exercise." Madison growled threateningly as she spoke, fixing Jack with a glare. "I was suspicious as soon as I walked in and saw you lying in bed with that innocent expression. You have _never _been that innocent Jack. Trust me I was there when you were born." Jack opened his mouth to argue but under her steely glare he thought better of it and shut his mouth firmly once more. One thing to say about spending a lot of time with Sarah was that it had taught him when to keep his mouth zipped up tighter than Moriarty's wallet.

"Fine" Jack gave in ungraciously, muttering incoherently to himself about bossy women and tyrannical dictators. He couldn't help but feel some relief that he was going to get it of his chest, he didn't like doing it in fact he absolutely hated having to share 'feelings', even with his Dad it had felt awkward, uncomfortable and it made him feel like he was exposing himself to the world. Still he knew deep down that bottling it up wasn't healthy and Madison Lee was one of the few, perhaps the only, person that he felt…safe…opening up to.


	31. Chapter 31

**Sorry about the wait guys**

* * *

It felt reassuring to have the weight of his combat armor, his rifle sling digging into his left shoulder and the straps of his webbing pulling at him once more, he worn them constantly for so long that he had missed the weight of them when he had not been wearing them. The wasteland was full of danger and Jack tended to wander the wilder parts of it, consequently he had learnt to sleep with one eye open, never relaxing, always ready to spring awake. It had kept him alive but it had also created a slightly paranoid view of life, one which meant that he was always ready to be attacked, one in which he expected a bullet in the back at all times. When you lived in that state for long enough you began to feel naked, vulnerable, hunted when you returned to the life that most sane people regarded as normal.

He could feel Sarah's gaze burn into the back of his head; she had been glaring at him ever since they had left Canterbury Commons. That she hadn't agreed with Jack's decision to leave was putting it mildly, Jack thought wryly, if looks could kill then the ones Sarah had sent his way would've reduced him to a smoking pile of ashes within the first minutes of leaving. He self-consciously straightened his back, knowing that the glares were also to give Sarah an opportunity to examine him for any traces of pain or injury that would give her an excuse to force him stop and rest once more.

Jack sighed glancing down to his booted feet which marched steadily, eating up the miles whilst giving no sign of the multitude of aches and protests which emanated from them. He knew that his body wasn't a hundred percent recovered, but the indeterminable waiting had been slowly driving him crazy. Still, contrary to what Sarah seemed to believe, Jack did not want to push his body to exhaustion once again if only because he wanted to be able to fight when he got to Vault 101. That was why he was currently marching his small party of soldiers along an old pre-war road instead of taking one of the shorter but harder going cross country routes.

At least the remaining two members of his little column seemed happy enough with his plan, though not enough to risk Sarah's wrath by supporting it openly. Then again, Jack grumbled to himself, the whole lot of them should be grateful for power armor he had managed to acquire from Crow at considerable expense.

"Bloody brotherhood types" He muttered under his breath "Nothings ever bloody good enough. You buy them some nice shiny armor well okay it was a bit dented but it's the fucking wasteland. Everything's dented hell even the damn nuke in Megaton has a whacking great dent in it. But no, they have to insist that it isn't ready for battle, they have to waste a whole shitting day repairing the stupid armor."

"Jack you saying something?" He heard Sarah call out in a sickly sweet tone, she was obviously hoping that he had acquired some sort of minor injury that would enable her to force him to rest.

"Just commenting on what a lovely day it is" Jack called back, forcing cheer into his force. Now that he thought about it Sarah was probably behind the whole armor situation. She had been trying to delay this journey ever since he had suggested it. She had become ridiculously over protective ever since he had awoken from his exhaustion induced coma. Jack suspected that she blamed herself for his condition and the guilt had translated into a plan to prevent him from ever being hurt again; seemingly ignoring the fact that he had a remarkable ability to get himself into trouble. Handily enough he also had a penchant for surviving in incredibly dangerous situations, which Sarah seemed to have forgotten in her quest to protect him.

Admittedly it was kind of her fault that he was in the sorry state that he was, she had after all captured him and placed him under arrest.

Then again, an internal voice argued '_If you hadn't been drunk then you would never have been captured in the first place._

'Ah' Jack reminded the voice 'She was the reason that I was drunk in the first place. And what did she expect the Brotherhood were going to do when they had me in their grasp. Tickle me until I told all?'

_You were the one who ran off without telling her why, you were the one who broke her heart because you were too afraid to face her after you lost your temper with her father._

And there, Jack thought miserably, was the reason that he couldn't bring himself to blame her, to be angry at her for what she had put him through. Because part of him believed that he deserved all the pain as a kind of perverse penance for abandoning her and all the other wrongs he had committed in his adventures. He had tried to be good, he had tried to live to the examples of his storybook heroes but it was so hard, goddammit, people always seemed to die even when he tried to do the right thing. Like Tenpenny Tower, a name that was forever burned into his mind as one of his greatest failures. Jack stepped up the pace of his marching, ignoring the grumbles from Glade, hoping that exhaustion would drive his thoughts far away from Tenpenny Tower.

"Take off your clothes" Jack head whipped up from where it had been, staring at a scratch in his boot as his mind was lost in though, his exhausted body slumped against the counter while he tried to muster the energy necessary to clean his weapons, the dust from the wasteland would become a serious problem if his rifle wasn't regularly cleaned.

"Sorry?" Jack asked pleasantly though he couldn't help the edge of confusion that laced his voice or prevented the light blush that colored his cheeks. He could've sworn that Sarah had told him to refuse his clothes but that was at odds with the tone with which she had spoken, barking it out like an order, nor the angry look on her face. Not too mention the fact that Gallows was in the far corner cleaning his rifle, a group of Canterbury Commons militia were also dotted around the aisles though had given Jack his companions as much privacy as they good from within the confines of the gas station's store.

Jack almost groaned aloud at the thought of the militia. The motley crew had managed to catch up with them just as they had stopped for the night, informing Jack excitedly that they were going to help him retake vault 101, apparently Glade was a very chat drunk. It wasn't that Jack didn't appreciate the help, a few extra rifles patrolling the walls of Megaton would be very useful, he definitely wasn't letting them anywhere near Vault 101 however, the last thing he needed was to babysit an untrained rabble no matter how noble their intentions were.

No, Jack thought wryly, the problem happened to be one very specific member of the militia, one who Jack had last seen laid out on the floor of Dot's Diner with a very angry Sarah Lyons looming overhead. Needless to say that Sarah was not pleased to see Machete once again, she was even less pleased at the girl's blatant flirting with Jack. Frankly he was surprised that they hadn't come to blows once more, they probably had Glade to thank for separating the two.

"I said. Take of your clothes" Sarah barked out the order once more leaving Jack just as confused.

"Why?" Jack's voice came out all squeaky and he mentally berated himself for sounding like a love struck teenager on their first date.

"So I can check that you haven't reopened any wounds" Sarah replied, her voice softer now though she still directed a withering glare in Jack's direction, she was obviously still annoyed that they had left before Jack was fully recovered.

Jack sighed heavily but quickly pulled of his shirt when Sarah narrowed her eyes at him. He couldn't help the smirk that made its way onto his face as he noticed the slight blush that appeared on Sarah's cheeks as she stared at his toned chest. She looked adorable when she was flustered, though he knew that if he ever told her that she would be furious. And if she ever found out that he sometimes purposely annoyed her just to see that blush then she'd kill him. She swallowed before she got a hold of herself before she proceeded with a very through examination. Jack shuddered involuntarily as her fingers ran lightly over his torso, he swallowed the moan that threatened to erupt from his throat. Sarah looked to be in similar state, her blue eyes filled with desire as she carried on her examination in excruciating detail.

The mood was shattered when the grating girlish tones of Machete reached their ears, her voice raised in an obvious attempt to anger Sarah.

"See that blonde bitch trying to play soldier in that big ugly power armour, no wonder she can't get herself a man. They all think she is one" Machete giggled at her own joke but continued when this failed to bait Sarah. "Now everyone knows I'm a woman, I've even got caught the Wanderer admiring me, he obviously likes a _real _woman."

Sarah let out a growl and made to stand, her fists clenched, knuckles whitened and jaw clenched as she fought to restrain the fury that threatened to fly out of her. Jack reached out and grabbed her arm in a gentle but firm hold that prevented her from jumping up and confronting Machete.

"Hey" He whispered soothingly "You know none of that's true, she just wants a reaction that's all. She's just jealous 'cause you knocked her on her ass the first time you met". He frowned when the comment failed to even bring a flicker of a smirk onto her face. The lights flickered overhead as someone flicked the light switch in the vain hope that the garage's old generators still worked. In the brief flash of light Jack blinked in shock at the sight of watery eyed Sarah staring back at him, her lips wobbling as she fought to control her emotions. Obviously Machete's words had caused more pain than he had realised.

"She's right" Sarah mumbled so quietly that Jack, even with his bat like hearing, had to lean forward till their foreheads were almost touching before he could hear her. "You're not going to stay with a scarred tomboy like me when you have a pretty girl like that."

"No" Jack spoke forcefully, not giving Sarah a chance to interrupt him "You are beautiful Sarah, I know you are no matter what anyone else says. I love you goddammit and I'm not going to leave just because a jealous piece of crap like _Machete_ waves her tits around like some cheap whore. It also happens that I find your battle scars sexy, their part of who you are, the sexist soldier I've ever fucking met. Even then I'd hardly call you scarred"

"You love me?" Sarah was staring at him now, shock apparent on her face as her blues eyes met Jack's.

"Ummm" Jack racked his brain, had he said that? Shit he had, it had just slipped out during his rant. Still it couldn't have been the first time could it? Damn it, it was, hardly the most romantic way. He carried on staring into Sarah's wide eyes unable to tear his gaze from them. Shit, he told himself, we've only officially been in a relationship for about a week, way too fucking soon to break out the L word. "Sarah I…I was just..and then it just…I didn't"

Sarah cut of his stammered attempt at a response by darting her head forward and shutting him up with soft, passionate kiss. It lasted several seconds before she withdrew to stare at him once more.

"You love me?" She was grinning now, looking that like the cat who got the cream "Even though I've been a bit of bitch lately?"

"A bit?" Jack grinned back

"Hey" Sarah growled, swatting his arm playfully, her mood undiminished by the comment. Jack had to remember the L word next time he pissed her off. "Are you sure?" she asked looking slightly worried now, her lack of self-confidence when it came to romance coming to the surface once more.

"Yes I'm sure" Jack growled determined to snap her out of it "I love you. Sure sometimes you can be a real hard ass but I know it's just because you're worried about me. And trust me I am never, ever going to touch _Machete_, even if I'm dressed in an environmental suit." She giggled at moved forward for another kiss.

"Prove it" She breather huskily into his ear

"Now? With all these people around?"

"What they can't see anything and I want to mark my territory" She purred one hand snaking down his bare waist to slide into his trousers, the other hand moving to pull his head into a hungry kiss. Jack grinned, it wasn't so bad being Sarah's territory, he certainly wouldn't have it any other way.


	32. Chapter 32

**Thank you for the reviews, always great to have them...hint, hi****nt :P**

Sarah sighed contentedly as she awoke to find herself curled up with Jack, her head resting on his well muscled chest, his steady heartbeat comforting her in the brief moment of confusion that assailed her as her brain struggled to wake. She couldn't help the smile that crept unbidden onto her face as she remembered, in vivid detail, what she and Jack had gotten up to the night before. She'd probably been a bit louder, Sarah admitted ruefully, than it was necessary but she had been so angry at that _bitch _Machete and she had wanted to show her that Jack was hers now, that he would never be hers.

Jack mumbled unintelligibly as he slept, unconsciously pulling Sarah in closer as he shifted in his sleep. A jolt of pleasure rushed through Sarah as she recalled the moment that Jack had told her that he loved her. Only Jack would say it for the first time while he was telling her off, not that that had made it any less special to Sarah who, frankly, was over the moon that he actually loved her…Sarah Lyons not anyone else especially that super bitch Machete.

She sighed again, snuggling in as close as was physically possible to Jack, relishing in his bodies warmth while being imbued with a determination not to let thoughts of Machete sour her good mood. Last nights events had given her a newfound sense of security, now that she felt safe and loved she could see her actions over the last couple of weeks in a new light. In short she had been an utter bitch lately. Yes, it had all come from a good place; a determination to protect Jack had spiralled into so much more. Craning her neck upwards she pressed a soft kiss onto Jack's cheek, thanking him for putting up with her worry and insecurity as well as he had done. She'd try to be better she resolved, not that she'd ever admit to Jack that she'd been overprotective. That man could be infuriatingly selfless, which meant that he really did need someone to put his needs first because he had proven many times that he sure as hell wouldn't.

The sound of sleeping bags rustling and people trying to shuffle a round quietly alerted her to the fact that rest of their little company were beginning to wake up. She glanced upward towards Jack once more, surprised to see the normally light sleeper still resting peacefully. Obviously yesterday had taken more out of him that he had admitted. Sarah pursed her lips, annoyed that he was going to make it so difficult for her to tone down the protectiveness when he refused to take care of himself, when he refused to show pain as he believed that showed weakness. Still, Sarah's lips curved into a small smile, there was no reason why she couldn't take out her frustration on the rest of the group, after all she had only resolved to be nicer to Jack after all. Excluding Gallows and Glade she didn't give a flying fuck what the rest of them thought about her.

Carefully extracting herself from the joined sleeping bags with a level of stealth that would've made Gallows proud she left Jack to get some much needed rest. She slipped through the narrow gap between the wall and the end of the counter, grabbing her kit bag as she did so. Putting on power armour was a noisy affair in addition to this it generally required a fair bit of room so she had decided she would armour up outside where Gallows and Glade had camped out. Where, most importantly, there was no chance of waking Jack up as she pulled the bulky power armour on. She noticed Machete glaring at her from the far side of the room, a sudden desire to rub last night's victory into her face. Shooting her a smirk and a wink Sarah hefted her bag across her shoulder as she sauntered out of the building, deliberately putting a spring in her step, her smile only grew wider as she took in Machete's fuming expression.

"Hey guys" Sarah called out to her brothers in arms as she stepped out into the early morning sunshine, her breath misting up min front of her as it made contact with the cold air, she shivered slightly, her thin under clothes doing little to stop the cold that engulfed her. As expected the two men were already awake and armoured up, carrying out the final checks on each other's armour to make sure everything was good to go.

"Hey Sarah, have a good nights sleep?" Glade waggled his eyebrows suggestively, grinning when Sarah blushed. Glade just stared impassively at her, his helmeted head hiding any expression, not that she thought the helmet was hiding any visible sign of emotion.

"Yes I did. How was your night, outside, in the cold and wind?" Sarah shot back determined not to let Glade think he had won.

"Touché" Glade smiled back, obviously enjoying their return to the friendly banter that they had used to share.

"If you're sure you've finished teasing me then you get help me get my armour on I have a lot to do so anytime saved would be appreciated." The long time squad members fell into a familiar rhythm, Gallows packing away all of the kit while Gallows and Sarah hurriedly pulled on her armour.

"Thanks Glade" Sarah smiled at her oldest friend as she quickly ran through her NSP on her laser rifle as he quickly ran through the armour checks. "You two mind standing guard while I get the civvies ready?"

"No problems Sarah, we cleared to cook?"

"Yeah sure, civvies'll want breakfast and they don't know how to do anything quickly. You could cook a gourmet meal in the time we'll have." Glade returned her smirk, hot meals were a rarity in the field, even the boil in the bag rations they were issued tasted semi decent when hot.

"Good, dismissed soldier"

"Ma'am" Glade replied, snapping his arm into a salute which Sarah promptly returned. Back in armour and in front of civilians a return to a soldierly format seemed appropriate, it had nothing to do with the fact that it would ruffle a few of Machete's feathers. Shooting him one last smile she spun round and headed back inside, gleefully anticipating her morning's entertainment.

* * *

"Sarah's in a good mood" Glade spoke, his tone bright and conversational not that was Gallows likely to reply. Gallows made old Scribe Taylor seem noisy by comparison and old Scribe Taylor was a mute. "Whatever Jack told her last night must have hit the right spot." Glade continued to ramble as he started a small fire on which he could quickly heat some of their rations. There was nothing like a hot meal and a warm drink to combat the effects of a cold morning.

"Wonder how long it lasts?" Glade continued, undeterred by the lack of response from his saturnine squad mate who stared off down the road, ever vigilant for signs of trouble. "Not long if that Machete has anything to say about it" Glade chuckled as he remembered how Sarah and Machete had met "You should've seen her face when Sarah showed her how the Brotherhood punches, Gunny would've been proud."

Still Gallows remained silent, not that Glade was offended he had served with him long enough to know that Gallows just didn't like to talk unless it was strictly necessary. Glade talked because he hated silence, he had hated it ever since he was a child. It made him nervous, edgy like something bad was bound to happen if it went on for too long. So he talked, he chattered and he joked, it made him feel better, he liked to think that sometimes it made others feel better too.

"Cup of Joe?" Glade asked as he pulled the ration bags from the boiling water, tossing one to Gallows and ripping his own open. "Ha ha sausage and beans, my lucky day. So yay or nay on the coffee?" Gallows shook his helmeted head, the movement almost imperceptible, Gallows never made anything obvious. "Oh yeah" Glade chuckled "You're a tea man aren't you?" Gallows nodded, tossing Glade his plastic mug as he did so. "Apparently not even the mighty Knight Captain Gallows can resist a hot brew on a chilly morning" Glade laughed as he poured as he poured the hot water into the two mugs before passing one back to Gallows, who had taken of his helmet and was now sitting on it. He still stared off down the road though Glade noted with some amusement that he had shifted ever so slightly closer to the warmth of the small fire. Glade sighed as he sipped the hot coffee, continuing to chat aimlessly as they stood sentry. It was just like old times, back to good old honest soldiering rather than the spy shit that they had been mucking around with recently. If there was one thing that this latest adventure had confirmed it was that Glade was not cut out to be a spy, no he was a soldier through and through.

If they weren't able to return to the Brotherhood he had no idea what he'd do, that life was all he had ever known. But knowing how stubborn Elder Lyons could be in his convictions there was a frighteningly real possibility of him being cast out of the Brotherhood. He knew that he would never join those arrogant traitors the Outcasts but beyond that he really had no idea where life beyond the Brotherhood of Steel would take him. He'd find a way though, he told himself firmly, he always had. The day he lost faith in that would be the day that he was truly lost. He'd be fine as long as he had squad mates like Sarah and Gallows watching his back.

"Hey" Glade's mind was dragged from his reverie by the cheery voice of the Lone Wanderer who strode out into the cold with a smile on his face, his Bergen slung casually over one shoulder.

"Hey, you're in a good mood this morning"

"What I can I say, the sun is shining. That and watching Sarah rip seven shades of shit out of the other poor sods in there is very amusing."

"True" Glade chuckled as he fixed Jack with a knowing smile "Especially when it's not directed at you?"

"Too right" Jack winked "It's nice to have old Sarah back, feels just like old times"

"Once we get ourselves a proper weapon it will" Glade retorted waving a dismissive round towards his assault rifle, they had been unable top acquire any energy weapons in Canterbury Commons much to his chagrin.

"We'll stop off in Megaton I swear" Jack held up his hands in surrender, though the effect was ruined by the cheeky smirk that shone on his face. The conversation lapsed into silence as Jack stared off into the distance obviously thinking about something, Glade could almost see the cogs turning in Jack's head.

"Why did you leave the Brotherhood?" Glade blurted out the question as the silence became unbearable. Jack's head whipped round and he fixed Glade with a piercing stare, his ice blue eyes seeming to gaze into his soul.

"Why do you want to know?" Jack asked, his tone guarded

"Well the way I see it you don't do anything without a good reason…or at least what you believe to be a good reason. And since I happen to risking my life and career for you because of you're rivalry with the Brotherhood I figure that I deserve to know why?"

"I don't like to talk about it"

"Tough" Glade growled "Look I know that when it comes to serious stuff your almost as quiet as Gallows there but you owe me this. I don't regret breaking you out of there but the Brotherhood's been my life since I was born, what we did may mean I can never go back. If that happens then I want…no…I need to know that breaking you out was the right thing to do. That you'll rivalry with the Brotherhood wasn't some over something petty."

"Hang on you must have been at the Pitt during the Scourge…"

"No. No I wasn't. Elder Lyons sent most of the non combatants along with a small guard of knights ahead while he stayed with the rest to clear the Pitt. The guys never talked about what they did there so I know _something _happened but exactly what I don't know. I think you probably have a better understanding of it than me."

"Fine, fine I'll tell you what I know. I guess I do owe you that much but after this we're even okay, I like to leave the past where it belongs, behind me. This sorry mess all started when I got a message from a guy called Werner…"

_I'd been mucking around with my Pip-boy when I stumbled across a strange radio transmission. This guy, Werner, basically was asking for help saving his home from a bunch of slaver/raider types. Now you know how much I hate slavers so I figured that eliminating a whole base full of them and rescuing some poor souls from a life of slavery was worth any trouble I might run into so I headed up north towards the co-ordinates that he gave in the radio broadcast._

_When I finally got there I found a bunch of strangely dressed raiders attacking this one eyed scrawny guy's camp. Being the helpful chap I am I put a bullet in the back of the raiders skull before I walk down to have a chat with the guy. As I had suspected he was in fact in Werner and apparently like everyone else in the Wasteland he needs my help freeing his home from the clutches of bunch of evil slavers. He said that he lived in the city called the Pitt, that it was a horrible place full of evil creatures etc, etc you know how it goes. The name seemed familiar but it wasn't till later on that I remembered hearing that Kodiak had come from the Pitt and the brief references in the Brotherhood archives, I only remembered this later when…I'm jumping ahead of myself here…where was I?_

_Ah Werner's Camp, of course. Don't glare at me like that I'm telling the story aren't I, what does it matter if I get a bit sidetracked. As I was saying Werner, the on eyed bloke who sent the message, had asked for my help liberating The Pitt. His plan basically involved me infiltrating the city by pretending to be one of the workers. After I got my hands on some old ratty slave clothes we left for the Pitt using an old rail cart that Werner had managed to get working._

_A few dead raiders later and I'd managed to sneak into the Pitt, armed only with an old switchblade and my wits. I joined up with a old work party who were heading back inside, the slavers weren't particularly vigilant so it wasn't overly hard in fact they didn't really care about us unless we weren't working or we refused to submit in which case they would brutally beat down any resistance._

_It was like hell on earth there, smelting furnaces churned out unbearable amounts of heat, everywhere you looked slaves were toiling away and the radiation caused all sorts of horrible deformities and afflictions to break out. The endless clanging of hammers was only broken up be the screams of unfortunate slaves who were caught by Trog, horrible hairless feral animals. They were once slaves but the radiation and terrible conditions has stripped them of any humanity._

_So I hope your getting the picture that The Pitt was basically a sort of hell on earth. Obviously I was very keen to contact the leader of the resistance so that I could organise some sort of rebellion, kill the slavers and get the hell out of there. I had a name, Midea, but that and a pass phrase were all that Werner had given me so I had to just casually get to know slaves and hope that I stumbled upon Midea. I was about to give up on finding her one day when I saw another a particularly brutish slave by the name of Doug dragging a struggling slave women into one of the cities myriad allies where many slaves tried to take shelter in the cold winter months._

_I had seen atrocities committed by the guards while I sat by powerless to act without blowing my cover so I dropped by the ingots that I was carrying and raced over to the opening that he had dragged her down. I was so fed up of being powerless, and my the anger that had been steadily building inside me seemed to erupt as I turned a corner and cannoned into the rapist, well attempted rapist, as he fiddled with his makeshift rope belt. _

_With a surprised bellow the heavily muscled bull of a man threw me to the side where I managed to stop my head smashing into the alley wall. Glancing back to the guy I saw him hefting a length of rebar with a chunk of concrete squarely on end as he advanced slowly towards me, a menacing grin etched across his face. Bits of concrete flew everywhere as it smashed into the wall where my head had been before I rolled away drawing the man away from his former victim._

_Staring back at him I pulled my switchblade out from its hiding place though I couldn't help a feeling of inadequacy as I compared my tiny blade to his large club. I threw a couple of very witty comments his way as I tend to do when desperately trying to think of plan. This process was interrupted when, taking offence at something I said about his mother, my opponent roared angrily at me and charged toward me at which I made a strategic withdrawal._

_No I did not run away Glade, I made a strategic withdrawal. It's kind of hard to dodge and dive around in a cramped tiny alley so I withdrew to a place where my tactics would be more effective. Anyway so after I relocated to more tactically beneficial location; this being the main square where food…well slop…was given to the slaves at midday and last light. I tripped over one of the old oil barrels which were used as seating in a ploy to throw my opponent of his game and make him believe I was actually afraid of big fat bastard._

_A feral swing of his rebar carried a few feet past me giving me time to scramble back to my feet and ready myself to fight. I'll admit that it wasn't one of my more heroic fights as it largely involved me ducking and rolling under the swings of the club, the would be rapist never seeming to tire or weaken despite bleeding from half a dozens would from my knife. Unfortunately none had been more than an opportunistic slash as I moved past, the man's inhuman strength giving him a frighteningly fast recovery after each swing._

_Realising that it was just a matter of time before I misjudged a swing or he got lucky I glanced around looking for anything that could tip the balance in my favour. The tip came in a crumbling section of a nearby wall which looked like it would cave inwards if its was struck, hopefully getting the rebar club stuck long enough for me to cause some damage. As another blow sailed over my head I dived so that the wall was at my back and I stood facing him, hemmed in on either side by a baying crowd of slaves and guards who had gathered round to watch the fight._

_His opponent laughed menacingly as he saw that I was trapped, adjusting his grip so that he could deliver one very powerful swing. We stared at each other, both waiting for the other to make a move before impatience or anger drove him forward as he swung at my chest, roaring bloodthirstily as he did so. I dropped flat to the floor, praying fervently that the rebar would become lodged in the wall or else I would be a very easy target for his next swing._

_My luck held and with a crunch the concrete mass at the head of the club sunk into the wall which began to collapse around where it had been struck. My opponent growled as he realised that his club was stuck, he braced a foot on the wall as he strained to pull it out. But the time that it bought me was enough for me to spring upwards driving the point of my knife up through the bottom his jaw and into his brain, the now lifeless body falling backwards as blood spattered over my clothing._

_A stunned silence enveloped the once infused crowd as they stood looking amazed that I had won, I'll admit even I was I bit surprised that I'd won. Then the slavers regained their wits and with angry yells, sporadic gun fire and the cracking of whips the crowd melted away to get back to their duties. Realising that I'd probably drawn some attention to myself I joined the crowd hoping to duck down a deserted street to lay low for a while. I was about to duck down one such alley when a bronze arm linked with mine and dragged me along with the rest of the crowd. Looking round I saw myself looking into the brown eyes of the women I had saved. She held a finger to her lips before she pulled me deeper into the seething crowd before pulling me into one of the ruined buildings._

_She'd pulled me in to what I assumed was her house though it wasn't exactly much to look at, a rickety bed, a rusty desk and rotten cupboard although I suppose by the living standards of the rest of the Pitt it was probably quite luxurious. I shifted uncomfortably, dreading the praise that I was sure she was about to send my way for saving her. Believe it or not but I've never been that comfortable with praise, it always makes me feel awkward and self conscious._

"_What the hell did you think you were doing" Luckily for me she didn't thank me, in fact she yelled at me, a lot. Apparently the woman I had saved was in fact Midea, leader of the slave resistance in the Pitt, also Werner had managed to get in touch and she had managed to figure out who I was and therefore she was furious that I had drawn so much attention to myself, She then insulted me several times before checking me over to make sure I was uninjured, once she was satisfied that I wasn't she proceeded to yell at me some more._

_When I protested that I had only intervened to save her from being raped she fixed me with a withering glare and bluntly informed that she had been raped before and another time wouldn't have made a difference. Then she slapped me for assuming that she couldn't handle herself, that she hated sexist bullshit like that ignoring the fact that her attacker was built like a brick shithouse. When she started to rant at me for pointing that out I finally realised that whatever I said was just going to make it worse for myself so I just shut up until she wore herself out._

_Anyway moving on from there basically Midea's goal was to get something called 'the cure' from The Pitt's ruler, a warlord named Ashur…yeah I thought the name might be familiar to you. But we will get to that later, you wanted the story that's fine but I'm going to tell you the whole thing. So Ashur had a cure for the Troglodyte Degeneration Contagion, which is what turned all those poor slaves into Trogs, if they could get a hold of that then the inhabitants might actually stand a chance of a normal life once they were free._

_I might've got more about her actual plan to get a hold of 'the cure' but the ugliest son of a bitch you ever saw walked in the door flanked by two of his cronies. This raider, who went by the name of Jackson, was uglier than a super mutant whose face had been rubbed with a cheese grater. After leering at Midea, who was considerably less mutated than every one else in the Pitt, he turned his attention to me. Obviously he'd seen me fighting because he started cackling with his buddies about my brawl with 'Tank'. Then he asks me if I think I'm a tough man, not waiting for an answer he announces that he's going to stick me in 'The Hole'. I know, I know but raiders aren't exactly the most imaginative bunch when it comes to names apparently. _

_As we're walking to the Pitt Midea's getting all excited, telling me that if I'm victorious in 'The Hole' that I'll be granted my freedom and taken to meet Ashur himself which in turn will give me an opportunity to find and take 'the cure', killing the head bad guy while I'm at it. Apparently this would be the perfect way to get into Ashurs's inner circle, providing as she so helpfully added that I survived a radiation filled hole full of the meanest craziest bastards that the Pitt had to offer. Ok so maybe she framed it a little more positively than that, though how I have no idea , because I was actually kind of confident as I walked in to the staging area where a rather enthusiastic woman called Faydra filled me in the rules, of which there were very few._

_Thus armed with just a now well used knife and the rags the slaves called clothes I entered the Hole._


	33. Chapter 33

__**I'm back, exams are finished and I'm hoping to get some real progress done on this story so hopefully we'll have one or two more chapters of this story done before the end of may. Thanks guys.**

* * *

_I should've died in the Hole. I was ill fed, armed with a very small knife, the only clothing I had was a very thin piece of sacking that was worn like a tunic meanwhile my opponents were well fed, well armoured, well armed and were a bunch of psychopaths. Like I said, I should have died in the Hole and I would have if not for one person, that person of course being Moira Brown of Craterside Supplies. Yeah I couldn't believe it either. Perhaps though I should explain how exactly she saved me because looking back it does sound like she jumped into the Hole and fought side by side with me. Moira can do many things but fighting that's beyond her…that and sanity._

_Luckily for me that insanity actually saved me. You see in the course of writing the Wasteland Survival Guide she needed me to do 'research' for her book. I use the term in it's loosest sense of course as Moira's version of 'research' had me breaking limbs, hunting landmines, hitting mole rats with a stick, activating homicidal robots and visiting the library. Okay, yes maybe that last one actually make sense under the context of research. As I was saying before I was so rudely interrupted, as part of her 'research' I had to get myself irradiated above 600 rads which let me tell is not fun at all. She did manage to cure me again but the whole experience did leave me with a slight…mutation. Whenever I am exposed to high levels on radiation I can regenerate, which admittedly can be useful…especially when you're stuck in a miserable hole in the ground, surrounded by psychopaths and, luckily for your handsome hero, barrels of nuclear waste._

_So when said psychopaths beat the living shit out of me I got back up, broken bones freshly healed, and repaid the favour. As I killed them I took their weapons, their armour and their Rad-away. All this meant that when I finally met the champion of the Pitt, a friendly chap who went by the name of Gruber, I had managed to scrap together a decent set of leather armour, a machete and a very old assault rifle. The assault rifle was rusty, it jammed up after a dozen or so rounds without fail but place enough rounds into the same area and you will eventually punch through most armours. So when Gruber swaggered out in some very tough looking metal armour with spikes sticking out all over the place I just grinned like a madman._

_You see most metal armours, the ones you see the higher level bad guys wear all the time, they're never that well made. You can usually tell when you look them what mish mash of scrap metal has been welded together. Common sense will tell you that some of those metals are weaker than others, so if you're smart you step back, take a few seconds to pinpoint the weak spots and bob's your uncle, the armour crumples like wet paper. Which is exactly what happened to Gruber, the champion of the Hole didn't actually turn out to be too much of a challenge, intimidating yes but thanks to my little mutation I was uninjured and I'm pretty sure that Gruber was off his head on psycho which meant he wasn't exactly able to fight smart. His tactics involved his armour taking a beating while he sprayed out from the hip with his assault rifle._

_Oooh yeah, I also got a fancy new silenced assault rifle from him, it was probably worth all the trouble just to get that sweet piece of gear though why Gruber needed a silenced assault rifle is beyond me, stealth wasn't exactly that guy's strong point. His tactics were more like charge the enemy in a psychotic chem. Induced rage and stop till you've hit the enemy enough times to kill him five times over._

_Yes, yes I know I'm getting slightly off topic, no need to get snarky Glade. My fights in the Hole must have impressed the leader of the Pitt because after the fight I received a message telling me that I was to go meet with the Leader of the Pitt, Ashur. Not that my fights had earned me any respect with the rank and file raiders who tried their best to provoke me, spitting at me, knocking me and insulting me and every possible relative of mine though they seemed to have an unhealthy obsession with my mom. I think some of them had some issues that they really needed to sit down and talk about now that I think about it._

_Of course we all know that the only thing that raiders respect is brute strength and the will to use as viciously as a possible. They all thought that because I had been a slave that I was too meek and frightened to hit back, disabusing them of that notion was particularly enjoyable I have to admit._

_The cleanliness was the first thing to strike me as I stepped into the old pre-war hotel that Ashur had made his home, somehow it had managed to escape the ravages of time and nuclear war, so much so in fact that when I stepped inside I felt like I had travelled back two hundred years before the bombs started falling... until I saw the heavily armed raiders patrolling on the walkways above me. Ashur himself was a very intimidating man, his heavy muscular frame towered above the rest of his men. The power armour he wore enhanced the brutal air that emanated from him, vicious metal spikes protruded from the shoulder plates and knuckles. Ashur looked like a man who loved to fight and fight hard._

"_Well now look who it is, the man who made the fearsome Gruber look like a little lost puppy" I had to stop and listen intently, sure that months of gun fire and blows to the head had damaged my hearing. Ashur had a deep, warm, mellow voice that washed over you and instantly made you feel relaxed. A smiled was plastered across his face as he chuckled at his own joke and beckoned me forward. I stared at him cautiously, unnerved by the friendly demeanour odds with his barbaric attire, his face had battle scars and I recognised that age in his eyes that was mirrored in my own. This man had seem war, this man had fought in the foulest places on the earth and survived purely on luck and skill, I knew that intuitively but what I could not fathom was how a brutal warlord who ran one of the most inhumane slave camps I had ever seen could be so damn friendly. I was curious, I'll admit it, so I did what I always do when I'm curious, I moved forward headfirst into the mystery that had appeared before me._

Jack stopped abruptly when he heard the sound of the of the door squeaking as it swung open, one of the militia stepping out, blinking rapidly as his eyes struggled to adjust to the early morning light. Glancing around he saw that a crowd had gathered around him, apparently he had not noticed, wrapped up in telling his story, as people had trailed outside to listen to his tale.

"Well" Jack coughed, rubbing his hand on the back of his neck self consciously as he realised that a story that had only been meant for two old comrades at arms had become one that almost everyone in earshot had heard. "We should get moving if everyone's ready" Jack spoke awkwardly, jerking a thumb in the direction of Megaton. He waited a few moments till it was clear that no one was going to move before he grabbed his bag and rifle before marching off towards Megaton.

Marching gave him too much time to think, Jack reflected bitterly, the monotonous motions allowed the mind to wander, to dwell on topics that Jack would have preferred to avoid. In this instance it was thoughts of Vault 101, the place that Jack had once called home until he had been forced to flee it. It wasn't that he wasn't that he was still in love with Amata, a sidelong glance at Sarah who was humming as she marched, an obvious spring in her step that had been present ever since their little chat last night. No it was more the fear that the people who knew him best, who had watched him grow up would still look at him with the same looks of disdain and fear, like they had when they had forced him to leave. In many ways it was easier to live out in the wasteland where it was rare that anyone knew your name and even rarer that they cared, it was easy to be whoever you wanted to be.

"What's going on in there?" Sarah asked playfully, gently poking Jack's head with her index finger as she asked.

"Just thinking" Jack smiled back

"Looks serious" Sarah paused, chewing on her bottom lip as she considered whether to continue or abandon the subject. "You thinking about 101, looking forward to going back there?"

"Ah…no, not particularly if I'm honest"

"Why's that" Sarah teased him "You have an old love there or something" When Jack was slow to answer she stared accusingly at him, Jack's own gaze was fixed off into the difference as he avoided her gaze, his mind desperately trying to think of way that he could tell Sarah about Amata while simultaneously reassuring Sarah that he loved her and not Amata. Before a coherent idea could form in his head, Sarah stormed off, her sapphire blue eyes sparkling with unshed tears. Jack stared helplessly after her, torn as to whether to chase after her or wait and give her time to cool off.

"What the hell are you doing back here?" Glade asked angrily as he slapped the back of Jack's head "I did not put up with all the damn tension between you two just to see you do it all over again. Now you and I know that she has nothing to worry about but Sarah, underneath the tough soldier there's an insecure layer that comes from constantly having to prove that just because she is the elder's daughter it doesn't mean she gets any special treatment, that she's earned everything that has been given to her. So stop thinking and get the fuck after her before she over thinks everything. GO!" Glade shouted the last word when Jack hesitated, the shout jerking him into motion as he broke into a run after Sarah.

He called out to her, saw her head jerk as she heard him but Sarah didn't turn to look for him or call back, instead her pace quickened. They had left the rest of their companions behind when Jack finally caught up with Sarah. Placing a hand on her shoulder Jack spun Sarah around, meeting her angry glare as he spoke quickly but firmly hoping to say all he had to say before Sarah snapped and he ended up on his ass in the middle of the road.

"Look Sarah I was in love with Amata, I admit. I was right up until the point where she chucked me out the vault and told me that I could never come back, that pretty much ended any chance of a relationship. So I went out, I got drunk and did my best to get over her I was never that successful…until I met you. Basically Sarah what I am trying to say is that I love you, only you and you need to trust that I'm telling the truth. Do you trust me?"

"Yes" Sarah nodded, her eyes still sparkled with unshed tears but her bottom lip had stopped quivering. "Yes I do" She replied more firmly before pressing a quick kiss to his lips. "if you were lying to me you realise that I'd kill you" She said, her sweet tone failing hide the deadly promisometse behind it.

"I'd never lie to you" Jack grinned. Sarah's response was to stare at him sceptically. "Well maybe once in a while."

The stare continued

"Ok maybe a bit more that"

Sarah still stared though Jack could see a ghost of a smile lurking at the corners of her mouth.

"Ok maybe most of the time, but nothing important…well okay maybe important in the 'Save the wasteland' category but no lies in the 'emotional' category, I swear." Finally allowing the smile to light her face Sarah pressed another kiss to his lips before leading Jack off by his hand towards where Megaton loomed in the distance.


	34. Chapter 34

**Just to let you guy's know, there was no Chapter 34 before, just a mix up as I took my author's note down. Hope you guy's are enjoying the story and thank you for the reviews, they are always appreciated.**

* * *

"Hey Jack" Sheriff Lucas Simms greeted Jack as the latter stepped through the town's second set of gates.

"How you doing?" Jack asked, returning the Sheriff's smile though he couldn't help but notice that the Sheriff's seemed slightly forced.

"Oh good, well at least I would be if it wasn't for the mass of savages camped out to the west of the city. You know the really funny thing, their leader tells me that you were the one who told them to come here."

"Oh that…yeah I suppose that it is the sort of thing that I should warn you about. Sorry" Jack grinned widely "Oh by the way I'd be careful what you call those…um lovely people who are camped outside" He nodded melodramatically towards his five 'bodyguards' who were from the tribe "They might take offence if they hear you. Their weapons might be a bit old fashioned but trust me they know how to use them." Lucas blanched as he noticed the five tribal warriors who stood at the back of the party; they had taken up the rear guard for the march towards Megaton alongside Gallows. Everyone else had avoided them, not that Jack could blame them; it was kind of eerie marching in total silence without the usual banter that was rife with marching soldiers. Even more creepily was the fact that Gallows seemed to have tuned in to the hive like mind that the warriors shared. Jack wasn't sure how they communicated though he'd bet with Sarah that involved either tiny hand signals or pheromones of some sort.

"Jack" The Sheriff shook his head slowly "You always make my life…_interesting._"

"I try my best Sheriff" Jack grinned doffing his cap in an imitation of the Sheriff "Now if you excuse me I should get home, check the place is still standing."

"Good day. Oh and Jack, please for the sake of the little sanity I have left, please don't kill anyone while you're here."

"Look I didn't mean to throw Burke off…" Jack started but he was cut off by a wave from Simms' hand.

"Ah…I never want to her about that particular moment ever again, the town meeting following that was horrible enough without me having to relive it." Pointedly ignoring the puzzled looks that he was receiving from both Sarah and Glade, Jack spun around to face the people he had travelled with across the wasteland since they had left Canterbury Commons.

"Well guys" Jack smiled clapping his hands together "It's been fun but we should split up from here. Just hand around Megaton for now until a defensive plan to stop the super mutants is formed. I'll see you later I guess."

He watched as the impromptu militia dispersed slowly, the majority making a beeline towards Moriarty's, the Irishman would thrilled at the new blood that was about pour into his bar…and then stumble out again in a few hours. His smile disappeared as he saw Machete elbowing her way through the crowd, her eyes fixed firmly on Jack although occasionally she shot a hate filled glare towards Sarah. Jack's mind raced for an easy way to get rid of her but the matter was taken out of his mind when he felt someone yank him away; turning his head he saw that Sarah was virtually dragging him by the arm in the direction of his house.

"Run" She squealed, smiling widely as Jack burst into a sprint, they slipped as they raced through the wet mud and slid as they pounded up the metal walkways. Jack fumbled with his key for a moment before he shoved it into the lock and twisted it roughly. The two of them virtually fell into the house, falling into a heap on the floor while the door clicked shut behind them. Sarah stared into Jack's eyes for a few moment before she leant down to kiss him, overwhelmed by her Jack allowed to the kiss to continue for a few moments before he reluctantly pried Sarah off of him.

"I'm sorry" He smiled softly at Sarah's pout "Weapons to clean, armour to repair and a vault full of ungrateful bastards to save. Go out and have some fun, relax for once."

"You're not going to do anything stupid like sneak of to the vault yourself are you?" Sarah asked him, staring suspiciously at him.

"I thought about it" Jack admitted as he gently took Sarah's hand "But what would be the point, you'd just chase after me anyway."

"Damn right" Sarah grinned "By the way, that suit of T-51b power armour, that's mine now"

"You mean that very valuable set of power armour that I almost died getting?" Jack returned her smile "Why would I give that to you? Last time I checked you have a perfectly nice set of power armour."

"But your set's much better, don't you want your girlfriend to be well protected?" Sarah whined playfully as she stared at Jack with wide, innocent blue eyes."

"Fine" Jack growled but couldn't help the smile that crept onto his face "Now thank you for the distraction but I really do need to get ready for tomorrow?"

* * *

Knight Captain Hudson swallowed nervously as he stared at the mass of green and orange flesh that flashed through the scope of his sniper rifle before disappearing behind another building. Aside from the occasional charges towards the Citadel where the crazed super mutants tried to swarm up the Citadel walls they had largely remained in the ruined city that lay on the edges of the Citadel's perimeter. Which suited Hudson just fine as the sporadic raids were horrific; they could happen at any time night or day. The alarm would go off and everyone, even the locals, would drop whatever they were doing and race to the walls. Then chaos would descend on the Citadel, discipline was non-existent as bullets flew everywhere, people screamed and monsters roared. If it carried on like this, Hudson thought bitterly, then eventually the mutant's bodies would eventually just form a ramp for the monsters to waltz up and rip them to shreds.

Lowering his rifle he turned to face the seven members of his new squad, 3rd Recon, who consisted of some of the best marksman and snipers that both the Brotherhood and the locals had offer. Hudson had to stop himself from raising his eyes skyward as he thought about his squad. Blood and steel, four days ago he had just been a lowly knight following orders mindlessly not even dreaming of becoming a damn Knight Captain. But high casualty rates had meant that they were desperate for officers, more specifically anyone who had shown a hint of leadership potential, apparently he had impressed in the skirmishes that occurred before the speech. Personally he had thought that he had just done his job like any other knight would have, sure sometimes he yelled out some advice or help organise something but it had to be done, it certainly didn't mean he was cut out to lead a whole squad, let alone a specialist one. It didn't help that the commander's of the other two recon squads were fucking legends in the Brotherhood, Hudson thought miserably, what was he compared to Knight Captains Colvin and Dusk.

"Sir I think I see another group massing" He was wrenched from his melancholic thoughts by the hurried shout from Knight Rogers, Hudson jogged over to his position quickly, praying that it was just a false alarm. Rogers had been an initiate until recently, the crisis forcing Elder Lyons to fast track initiates into the Brotherhood, it was likely however Hudson conceded wearily to himself, days of constant fighting had ground the enthusiasm out of everyone.

"Where?" Hudson barked out when was kneeling next to Rogers' position

"Gaps between the buildings, 200m left of tall tower"

"Shit" Hudson breathed when his scope moved over the location Roger's had indentified. "Squad form up here, on the fucking double."

"Sir" Six voices chorused back at him as they scrambled up from their various positions along their section of the Citadel wall to race over to lie prone alongside Rogers. Hudson repeated Rogers' identification of the location and waited for them to call out that they had found it.

"Right men let's disperse the bastards before they decide to come over here" Hudson shouted, forced to raise voice so he could be heard of the cacophony of super mutant roars. Rifle's cracked intermittently as his men picked their shots carefully, whittling the super mutants numbers as they killed any super mutant who showed a hint of leadership.

"Sir, any orders for me sir?" A high voice squeaked out from behind him, pivoting smartly on his heel, Hudson turned to face the youngest member of his squad, Squire Arthur Maxson. When it had become obvious that everyone who could fire a gun was needed on the walls Elder Lyons had ordered, with great reluctance, that everyone within the Citadel walls was to be armed and assigned duties that aided the efforts to lift the siege.

Word around the officer's mess was that Elder Lyons had stubbornly opposed the Squire's involvement in the siege, apparently he was still very protective since the young Maxon's little excursion a month ago. But even the Elder had to concede that it was unheard of that a Maxson would cower in safety while the Eastern Brotherhood's very existence was in jeopardy. Hudson had admit, the officer's mess had much more interesting rumours that the rank and file's, the hottest topics their rarely extended past who was caught doing what with whom.

Still, Hudson reflected, the kid's place in his squad was entirely ridiculous, Maxson could shoot. Ever since he'd gotten back, Maxson had been hitting the ranges every chance he could get and the practice had paid off. While Maxson certainly wasn't anywhere near as good as Hudson's best marksman, he definitely better than the average grunt, if kept up his training the kid could definitely be a great sniper. Accordingly Hudson was doing his best to mentor the Squire, some of the other officer's liked to play some bullshit political games that Hudson never could understand but he knew enough to know that being in the good books of a Maxson would mean that as long as he did his job well he was safe from any of that crap. Hudson liked to think that despite his flaws, he knew how to fight a battle and perhaps more importantly when.

"Yeah go alert Paladin Tristan that we are attempting to disperse a crowd of uglies, tell him I recommend that the regulars armour up." Hudson barked out the order and watched with a trace of amusement as the young lad ran full pelt towards the command post in the centre of the bailey. Squire Maxson might aspire to be a sniper but he still took his duty as a runner seriously, Hudson thought approvingly. Being a mentor was one thing, Hudson reminded himself, but Brotherhood lives would depend on this kid one day and Robert Hudson would be damned if anyone died because he failed to hammer a lesson into the kid because he was worried about some political officer bullshit.

"Oi Hudson, them mutant's ain't, how'd you put it, dispersing. I think we're just pissing them off"

"That's sir to you Harrows" Hudson snapped, the man might be a local but he was in his unit and Hudson was going to drill discipline into the cocky wastelander even if it killed the both of them.

"Yes sir, sorry sir" Harrows replied sulkily, though Hudson knew it was more disappointment in himself that it was directed at Hudson. Harrows was proud to be part of the unit, he wanted to earn his place, he wanted to stay, he just had a little trouble with the discipline part of being a soldier.

"Thank you Harrows" Bringing his own rifle back up, Hudson honed in on the sector in question, the uglies were swarming like ants, swinging their weapons wildly in the air as they worked themselves into a frenzy. "Fuck you're right" Hudson swore softly, recognising the signs, another attack was about to begin, hell was about to descend on the Citadel once again.

"Switch to automatic weapons men" he ordered, the precision tactics his unit were currently using were useless against a crazed horde. Spinning round he snatched at the red flag that lay on the ground beside and ran to the inner edge of the wall, gripping the wooden handle tightly he waved the flag frantically, praying that the signal would be picked up quickly. Obviously the watchmen were doing their jobs as seconds late the alarm began to blare out of speakers across the Citadel and people streamed out into the waning sunlight, sprinting towards the walls as they scrambled to reach their positions before the tide of berserk super mutants smashed into the walls. Hudson turned away from the sight, moving his focus to the 3rd recon, he had job to do.


	35. Chapter 35

Jack squirmed up the small hill on his belly, rifle cradled in his arms as he made his way up the hill, cursing occasionally as his knee smashed into an errant rock. At least, he comforted himself it was dry day with a cool wind to accompany it, this was always a hell of lot more unpleasant when you had to crawl through mud, the warmth being leeched out of you and the feeling that you mud made you weigh twice as much as you did before. As he neared the crest of the hill he noticed a clump of thorn bushes up ahead on his right, he shifted direction towards them, reasoning that they would provide cover and break up his body's outline as he stared through his binoculars towards Vault 101.

He muttered and cursed grumpily as he forced his way into the prickly bush, each moment agonizingly slow as he crawled in carefully, trying to minimize any movement in the bushes branches that could give away his position to any lookouts or snipers that could be lurking out near the vault. His arms, hands and legs stung maddeningly from all the scratches. Laying his rifle close to hand, jack dug around in his webbing for his binoculars, yanking them from the pocket where they had been hurriedly stuffed. He blinked for a few moments as his eyes fell on the familiar landscape, he had used to go out of his way to pass it sometimes, just so that he could remember that surreal life when he had been happy, safe and his greatest worries were what the Overseer would do if he found out about him and Amata.

Jack stared for a few moments more before he dragged his attention back to his task, scouring the hills with his binoculars meticulously as he searched for any hint of an enemy sentry. There was a lot of open terrain between him and the entrance to the cave where Vault 101 resided, if he missed a sniper there would be a lot of dead bodies littering the desolate plain before night fell. Minutes ticked by, behind him Jack could hear the sounds of his strike force getting restless but Jack continued to scrutinize the craggy hills opposite him. He hadn't found anyone, that's what bothered him, surely whoever was currently occupying the vault would not have neglected to put at least one sentry above to ground, it was basic military strategy. About a dozen or so yards to his left and right Jack had Gallows and Glade performing the same task as him, it was inconceivable that the experienced Brotherhood soldiers had both failed to find the sentry as well but Jack's gut insisted that that must be the case. From what he had learnt over the past two months whoever his opponent was, they were meticulous, paranoid and extremely cunning, there was no way that that person would allow such a ridiculous mistake as having no sentry posted.

His attention was diverted by the sound of another body crawling up the hill behind him, a metallic clank telling him that whoever it was, they were wearing a suit of power armour, which narrowed done the list of possible people down to one. Sarah Lyons smiled happily at him as she settled own beside him, laying her own laser rifle down next to Jack's hunting rifle.

"Still not found him yet, I think you're losing your touch." She teased Jack as she nudged him in the ribs with her elbow. Jack smiled back despite his worry

"You think you can find him?" He shot back

"Not even going to try" Sarah retorted, sticking her tongue out at him "Just here to stop you getting bored out of your skull."

"Is it me that's getting bored or you?" Jack asked sceptically, lowering the binoculars to stare at her, smirking as a tell tale blush appeared

"I sorted out your strike force ages ago, for loc…uh I mean for civilians they definitely know what they're doing."

"Oh my, praise from the high and mighty Brotherhood sentinel" Jack teased her playfully "You should be congratulating the Sheriff any way; he somehow managed to find a dozen men who were willing and able to fight."

"What and ruin my reputation, why would you want me to do that?" Sarah asked in mock severity. Jack smiled in reply but his gaze returned to stare at the hills worriedly. He was very aware that he was responsible for the lives of Sarah, Glade, Gallows and the rest of the force, he hated being in that position. If it hadn't been necessary he would have gone in alone, he preferred just holding his own life in his hands. In his experience when ever he held others in them, he always seemed to drop them no matter how hard he tried to hold on. His father, Charon, Dogmeat, Fawkes, the list went on with each name getting more painful than the last. It was his curse, he decided bitterly, that he could walk into hell and stroll out unscathed while those closest to him died around him. That was probably why he had let Sarah take that damn set of pristine T-51b power armour, why he'd insisted that for once she wore the damn helmet when they started fighting.

"Hey" Sarah pulled his binoculars away from his eyes, forcing him to turn and look at her "You need to stop doing that, getting lost in your thoughts. You can drive yourself crazy just bottling up the past; everyone needs to talk at some point." She settled herself more comfortably on the dry ground "So while we wait forthe very capable Gallows to find your missing sentry, you can tell me the rest of what happened in the Pitt."

"So you heard…earlier?" Jack mumbled "Look it's not that…"

"Look" Sarah's voice was still friendly but now an edge of steel laced it, a warning to Jack that this wasn't a subject he was going to be able to dodge around. "I know it will be uncomfortable, for both us, but I _need_ to know what got you so angry that you would cut me and the rest of the Brotherhood out of your life as soon as you got back. So just tell me, I promise I won't hit you…more than once…during the story."

"Fine" Jack huffed "But no interruptions, I just want get this over with before you get angry again. I'm going to say some things I'll doubt you'll like, if you want the truth I'm afraid you're just going to have wait until the end before you get mad, we clear?"

"Clear" Sarah grumbled though her eye's never left Jack's, he could see the curiosity blazing behind her sapphire eyes. He swore in his head that she had heard his damn story, damn Glade for asking, damn himself for telling the fucking story. He should have had the good sense to keep it locked away in his head, he didn't want to hurt Sarah, to shake her faith in the Brotherhood but by telling the story that was just what he was going to do if he told her what he had found out in the Pitt.

* * *

"_You're no damn slave" Ashur chuckled as he lead Jack through a maze of white marbled corridors "Don't worry, you're a fighter like me, you proved that in the Hole and I always have a use for men who can fight well and fight smart. You here for the cure?" He had been speaking in friendly tones up until that final sentence, but all joviality vanished as he spoke about the cure. Instead he whirled around and stared intently at Jack, his scarred face and milky white left eye only making the deadly look etched upon his face that much more vicious. Staring back defiantly, Jack struggled to maintain a cool, unconcerned posture as he leaned nonchalantly on the wall. He knew that if he gave the wrong answer here, he would be dead soon after, unarmed and faced with those power armoured fists he knew that he would be ripped apart limb by limb in a fight._

_He had known that Ashur was not an everyday, run of mill raider warlord when he seen how the man had moved in his power armour. Ashur did not seem to weighed down by it, in fact he moved smoothly, gracefully even as if the bulky armour was a second skin. Jack had only met two groups of people that were able to use power armour like that, the Enclave and the Brotherhood of Steel. Judging by the fact that he knew that the Brotherhood had been through the Pitt and the scratches that covered where the Brotherhood knights usually proudly wore the Brotherhood's symbol, Jack guessed that Ashur had been part of the latter._

"_I'm here for the cure" Jack spoke bluntly though his eyes couldn't help but flick between the barely restrained anger that lurked behind Ashur's eyes and the rapidly clenching and unclenching fists that stood stiffly by his sides. "The resistance here asked me to take it, to give it to the slaves so that they cure themselves." He held up his hands in a supplicating gesture, continuing hurriedly as he saw that Ashur was losing what little self control he had left. "But I've learnt the hard way that you never make a decision without hearing both sides of the story so I'm not going to do anything rash just yet."_

_Though he maintained his calm exterior, Jack's muscles were tensed as he prepared to run for life if his little speech hadn't appeased Ashur, the man seemed to be unnaturally protective of this cure._

"_You're a cocky one" Ashur's face broke out into a smile, the anger fading just as suddenly as it appeared. "I like your attitude, am attitude like that could go far in my little organisation"_

"_And what's an ex-Brotherhood soldier doing running a band of petty raiders?" Jack asked figuring he might as well push what little luck he had left. "I've worked with them quite a bit, enough to learn two things. One, the Brotherhood of Steel and raiders don't mix well, hell they don't mix at all. Two, no one just leaves the Brotherhood with a full set of power armour, they're very protective about technology like that."_

_Once again Jack found that he was the recipient of another viper like stare, the thought that he had pushed a little bit too far racing to the front of his mind as he prepared to strike out with the small pen knife that he had hidden in his belt, he couldn't win a fight, he knew that for certain. But he could feint a strike at Ashur's one remaining eye. Men always moved to protect their eyes, Jack figured that would go double for a man who only had one eye left. The move might buy him enough time to get out of the reach of those spiked fists. These plans where driven to the back of Jack's mind when Ashur burst in laughter, his deep voice causing the sound to echo through the empty hallways._

"_You've got a set of balls lad, I'll give you that. Yeah I used to be part of the Brotherhood, have to admit I'm surprised they worked with you, must be getting desperate if they let one of the 'local wildlife', as they call you, work with them. The Brotherhood must be getting desperate." He fell silent for few seconds, a thoughtful expression upon his face. He stayed like that for a few moments, finger and thumb rubbing his patchy stubble before he shook his head dismissing whatever thoughts had been running through his head._

"_Where was I? Oh yes, I was a member of the Brotherhood, before they left me behind, wounded and alone in this cesspool. You think it's bad now?" He boomed, his passionate tones ringing in Jack's ears "You should have seen this place before I took, I saved this place, I saved the people that the Brotherhood left behind me" He was yelling by the end, his one eye daring Jack to dispute his claim, who had enough sense not to provoke the very volatile warlord. "Ah but you doubt me." Ashur's voice returned to it's normal charming tone. "After all you have served with the oh so noble Brotherhood, well let me show you the true face of the Brotherhood of Steel." Placing a firm hand on Jack's shoulder, Ashur steered Jack down the maze of corridors, clearly intent on showing Jack something that he believed would bring Jack around to his way of thinking. _


	36. Chapter 36

"_In your work with the Brotherhood did you hear of a battle they fought here?" Ashur asked Jack as he steered Jack round another corner,_

"_Yeah" Jack replied "They called it the Scourge, met one of the kids they took from here actually, became a Brotherhood Knight as a matter of fact."_

"_An admirable achievement for the lad, though I doubt even he knows all of what occurred here. Such an act as was committed would never be permitted to stain the honour of the Brotherhood's archive. You see, as I am about to prove to you, the Brotherhood may hide behind power armour and laser rifles but when you trip these away and look at their actions in a fresh light you realise that they are nothing more than a gang albeit one that is only concerned with technology. I've seen it in the West, they are prepared to watch the world burn around them…as long as the old world technology is in their greedy hands." Ashur deep voice echoed off the walls and down the pristine corridors, his armoured fists tightening painfully into Jack's shoulder as he spoke angrily about the Brotherhood._

_A final turn led to a large room, decorative columns soaring up high to hold ceiling up, paintings, sculptures and other artwork adorned the simple white walls adding a sense of vibrancy and colour that had not been present in the empty, emotionless corridors that Jack just left. Ashur left him no to examine the new room, shoving him across the room towards a large pair of large varnished wooden doors._

"_Behold the face that the Brotherhood hides behind their helmets" Ashur declared grandly, flinging the doors open to reveal a small balcony overlooking a large plaza. Following Ashur's prompts, Jack stepped forward expecting some minor crime the Brotherhood had committed during the battle to be showcased to him by Ashur, who clearly was not all there in the sanity department. His eyes widened as he looked down upon the plaza, the horrible spectacle that lay before him causing bile to rise, Jack had forcibly swallow to stop himself from retching. He had seen dead bodies before, he had even seen mass graves where Raiders would dump the bullet ridden bodies or their victims in the nearest hole, too lazy to burn or bury them. But the sight before him was so much worse, perhaps because it just seemed to cold, so callous or perhaps it was the sheer number of victims._

_Their shrivelled burned husks covered the plaza, which was walled in by a makeshift stockade made from scrap metal and parts of buildings that surrounded the square. Jack could not even see the floor of the large plaza, which was equal in size to the Citadel's bailey, so covered was it in burnt bodies and grey ash which clung to every surface. The bodies were in piles near the gates and walls, obviously the people had desperately tried to escape, climbing atop each other as they struggled to save themselves from the fire that rained down upon them. Jack's fists clenched tightly, his knuckles turning white and his nails digging painfully into his palm as he realised the implications of this. They had been burned alive, they had been penned in like brahmin and then they had not even been killed quickly, they had been burned alive. He couldn't even imagine the screams and panic that must have raged through the crowd like a plague as the first people began to burn, the rest realising the terrible fate that awaited them._

"_A sight that's apt to make you retch and cry out with disbelief" Ashur intoned, uncharacteristically quiet as he leaned on the grey stone balcony wall, staring outwards towards the gruesome sight._

"_It's fucking barbaric" Jack swore angrily_

"_The Brotherhood were the ones who first discovered what we now call Tro__glodyte Degeneration Contagion during the Scourge. When the extent of the disease was found it was decided that such an infestation could be not left unchecked. The commanders were worried enough about the Super Mutants that our scouts had discovered in D.C so it was deemed necessary to wipe out the infestation and prevent any threats to our rear and leave a viable lien of retreat if we were forced back West." He shook his head sadly before turning away from the gruesome scene, leaning on the small wall he faced the doors they had come through, Jack found himself unable to look away, his eyes firmly fixed on the black, shrivelled bodies below as Ashur continued to speak. "Only the experienced were chosen, men who killed and would have no problem with the slaughter that was expected. The children and non-combatants were escorted a few miles down the road by the rest, far enough way that they would not be able to hear the laser fire or the screams. We went in at the dead of night, squads peeling off street by street to search the houses for survivors to march down to this plaza. I pulled children from the beds, shot parents who tried to protect their families from the strange metal men who burst into their homes in the dead of night." Ashur lapsed into silence, his voice had become hoarse as regret overwhelmed him. "The Brotherhood thought they knew everything about the Pitt, despite only being in the damn city for three fucking days. The robes thought it was some kind of virus at the time, so Lyons ordered that the bodies were to be burned so any trace of the 'virus' would be eradicated. Only the 'diseased barbarians' put up more of a fight than command expected so we were fucking low on damn ammo by the time we managed to round everyone up and lock them away. The whole damn regiment was low anyway never mind the force we had in the Pitt. So the stupid bastards up the chain got all worried, they didn't want us walking the couple of miles to the camp without ammo as they worried what would happen if we were attacked. So we weren't allowed to give the poor sods a quick, merciful death, no sir, orders came down that we were ordered to burn them alive. What can I say we were soldiers and like good goddamned soldiers we swallowed any misgivings, any complaints and we carried out our orders to the fucking letter. I still hear the screams every night, every time I see a fire burning, every time there's damn silence" Ashur shuddered as his spoke, his eyes crazed as they bored into Jack who groped around behind for any type of weapon, convinced that Ashur was about to lash with those wicked spiked fists, he settled for a fist sized rock as he eyed Ashur warily, putting as much distance as was possible on the small balcony between him and Ashur._

_The rage faded from Ashur's rapidly, a hopeful, wide eyed stare replacing it, "So now you know the truth about the Brotherhood. After I was I injured I found survivors, I knew it was sign, a chance to redeem myself so I made myself their leader. Sure I spilled blood, made examples of those who opposed me but everything I did was to save them, to protect them from those who would seek to finish the Brotherhood's work." He spoke pleadingly, his eyes beseeching Jack to agree that his actions had indeed been for the greater good of the Pitt._

"_What proof do you have that it was the Brotherhood who did this?" Jack deflected, partly to avoid Ashur's pleading look and partly because he couldn't believe that members of the same organisation that he had shed blood beside could commit an atrocity such as the one that stretched out into the distance before him. It was especially difficult for him to believe that Sarah's father was the one who had given the orders that led to brutal deaths for innocent civilians, that would definitely throw a spanner into the works of a good friendship, albeit one Jack was hoping would develop into something more._

"_Proof?" Ashur boomed angrily "I've told you things only a Brotherhood knight could know, if you don't trust that ask the rest of your damn Brotherhood when you get back, watch the reactions on the older men's faces when you mention the plaza massacre to them."_

"_Trust me the Brotherhood will have some questions to answer about the Scourge when I return" Jack replied grimly, his tone seemed to mollify Ashur who nodded emphatically in agreement._

"_Good…good." A smile lit up his face, showing yellow teeth "Now that I have shown you that I saved the Pitt, that the Pitt is safest under my leadership, I have something very important to show you, for I have done what no one else has been able to do. Cure the Troglodyte Degeneration Contagion." With that echoing pronouncement he turned smartly upon his heel and marched back into the building, leaving Jack to hurry in his wake, relieved that he would finally get what he came here for. In his opinion the sooner he was out of the erratic warlord's company the better._

_Jack blinked in surprise he followed Ashur into the room, he had heard the beeping of medical equipment and the whirring of computer fans from down the hall, a sound he grown used to from when he visited his Dad in his clinic but he had not expected the sight which greeted him as he stepped into the room itself. He rubbed his eyes furiously before glancing back up, no, he thought bewilderedly, there was still a damn baby sitting in a cot smack dab in the middle of the room. Ashur, now cooing to the baby who gripped one of his outstretched fingers with a tiny fist, could obviously see it which meant that this wasn't a product of the radiation he had managed to soak up over the past year. Jack swore silently as he watched the surreal sight of a scarred, crazy warlord playing with a baby, apparently life in the goddamn Pitt had just got a whole more complicated._


End file.
